


half-baked

by baeconandeggs, seungmin, zhanluxie (orphan_account)



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Bakery, Alternate Universe - College/University, BAE2017, Fluff, M/M, Minor Lu Han/Oh Sehun
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-17
Updated: 2017-05-17
Packaged: 2018-11-01 16:28:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 22,730
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10925625
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/baeconandeggs/pseuds/baeconandeggs, https://archiveofourown.org/users/seungmin/pseuds/seungmin, https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/zhanluxie
Summary: Chanyeol can’t stand how annoying the new part time baker is.





	half-baked

**Author's Note:**

> author: anonymous  
> prompt#: 514  
> title: half-baked  
> word count: 22730  
> side pairing(s): sehun/luhan  
> rating: pg-13  
> disclaimer: The celebrities' names/images are merely borrowed and do not represent who the celebrities are in real life. No offense is intended towards them, their families or friends. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. No money is being made from this fictional work. No copyright infringement is intended.

Hiring Baekhyun was probably one of the worst mistakes of Chanyeol’s short, miserable life.  
  
It wasn’t that he was rude, or didn’t know how to bake, because Baekhyun could whip up a mean soufflé and maybe even lift a sack of flour if he tried. (Not that he ever would, of course.)  
  
No, it was that Baekhyun was terrible but qualified and Chanyeol had been left with no other choice.  
  
He still remembers the day Jongdae had first introduced them, claiming that one of his vocal performance major friends had made him an amazing strawberry mascarpone tart the other day and wouldn’t mind helping Chanyeol out at his bakery.  
  
Internal Chanyeol snorts. Help out, his ass.  
  
“Are you okay? You look like you’ve just eaten three wedding cakes and now they’re about to do a number on your digestive system.” Sehun’s looking up from where he’s whipping together bavarian cream, and Chanyeol lets the familiar scent float through him.  
  
“Nah,” Baekhyun waves him off. “He’ll be fine. He’s still recovering from last night.”  
  
“Fuck off,” Chanyeol says, and Baekhyun laughs at him in response.  
  
  
  
Since EXO’s located at the second right across from the university, every fall they collectively have a brief period of _oh fuck, how do we do this again?_ before everyone adjusts to longer hours and colder mornings. Throwing Baekhyun into the mix, however, didn’t help.  
  
His first day had resulted in Baekhyun forcing Chanyeol into taking on cashier duty, while he handled the cake orders and made sure that Sehun was grinding out enough pastries for the display case. Chanyeol was a more than a little miffed, because _who does this guy think he is?_ But he clamps his mouth shut, as much as it pains him to do so, and settles for trying to smile in a friendly manner.  
  
Sehun glances over at him. “Are you about to puke?”  
  
Or, maybe not.  
  
Chanyeol sighs instead, which seems to put the teenage girls in the corner at ease. He can practically hear Jongdae’s voice, nagging at him to _say something, for fuck’s sake, don’t let everyone just walk all over you_ , but Chanyeol doesn’t do things the way Jongdae does, so he waits and lets the anger simmer. He’s in the middle of rearranging the tip jar, for lack of anything better to do, when he hears the snapping of fingers and a high pitched voice crooning out a song that he’s heard all too many times from Jongdae’s drunken karaoke escapades.  
  
“Why is there music playing?” Chanyeol asks, looking at Baekhyun, who’s busy bopping his head along to the beat.  
  
Sehun shrugs. “He was like this when I came in this morning.”  
  
Chanyeol stalks over to Baekhyun’s workstation and reaches to tap him on the back, but Baekhyun beats him to it and swivels around to face him.  
  
“Can I help you?”  
  
Something snaps in that moment. Baekhyun’s peering up at him with droopy eyes and a smile that Chanyeol would’ve found cute if he didn’t see the slightest trace of condescendence laced within it.  
  
“Yes,” Chanyeol hisses, because not only did he get demoted to cashier duty in his own fucking bakery, rush hour will be starting anytime soon and he’s always crankier then. “You can turn off your godforsaken _music_ , that’s what.”  
  
Baekhyun hums under his breath, shrugging and nodding a little, and Chanyeol nearly collapses in relief, except that something feels off. Baekhyun’s submission feels a little too easy.  
  
Chanyeol’s proven right seconds later, when he watches in horror as Baekhyun moves past headbanging and starts _dancing_ along to “Something” by Girl’s Day, instead of turning off the music blasting from speakers that Chanyeol didn’t even know they had. Chanyeol has never, ever wanted to be as far away from Baekhyun as he does in that moment.  
  
He snaps out of his silence when Baekhyun actually shoves his ass in front of Chanyeol’s face, hovering closer and closer before–  
  
“Okay, enough!” Chanyeol bursts out, and watching in palpable relief as Baekhyun straightens up and walks back to his workstation, full dignity intact, as if he didn’t just grind in front of Chanyeol. He lets out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. “You’ve made your point. The music stays.”  
  
The corner of Baekhyun’s mouth curls up into a tiny smirk, one that Chanyeol nearly misses, if not for the smug air that’s practically emanating off of him and the cocky flash of his eyes, which seem to read, _told you so_.  
  
Chanyeol kind of wants to murder him right then and there.  
  
  
  
Unfortunately, despite his general asshole-ness, Baekhyun is as good of a baker as Jongdae had said he was.  
  
(Not that Chanyeol had doubted Jongdae, but he’s bound to be the slightest bit wary when Jongdae’s prone to procrastinating until an hour before deadlines and having bad taste in cereal. Really, who chooses Fruit Loops over Cinnamon Toast Crunch?)  
  
Baekhyun knows the right length of time to let lemon pound cake sit in the oven (enough that the outside was crusted light golden brown, yet still moist on the inside), knows the right things to say to convince customers to buy two, three, five baked goods, wrapping them up into colorful boxes and tying them off with a smile and cheerful, “Have a nice day!”  
  
That was something Chanyeol and Sehun had never been able to handle on their own: the almighty beast itself, Customer Service.  
  
Chanyeol had heard multiple horror stories from Luhan, who ran the flower shop next door, about customers who came in and thought that _“Feel free to look around!”_ meant _“Break three pots and refuse to pay, also have your teenage son ask about dick flowers in a pathetic attempt to satisfy his internal self-esteem issues.”_ Yixing had nearly fainted when the guy had greasily sidled up to the counter, and Luhan had snapped multiple flower stems in his efforts to do anything but pummel the guy to death. (Luhan may look small and fragile, but he packed a mean punch, from years of… who knew what. Chanyeol supposes it’s a short person thing.)  
  
He himself was too impatient to deal with the intricacies of small talk and pleasantry, and Sehun was lanky and awkward and had nearly broken the cash register one afternoon from slamming his head on it when Luhan had walked in.  
  
“You told him, quote unquote, that ‘If you were a flower, you’d be a damn-delion?’ Do you have a death wish or something?”  
  
“Yes,” Sehun groaned miserably, “Death by doe eyes and heart asphyxiation.”  
  
Chanyeol rolled his eyes and proceeded to crush a bag of frozen peas against Sehun’s head, ignoring his yelp of pain.  
  
“You’re going to need to buy him a lifetime’s supply of coffee to recover from that one.” Chanyeol said, and Sehun promptly buried his face in his arms.  
  
“I was even making progress!” Sehun cried out, and slumping back down against the counter.  
  
Chanyeol snorted. “Yeah, if you consider blushing and stuttering every time you send baked goods over as progress.”  
  
“I couldn’t even look him in the face at first. I’m working on it.” Sehun grumbled out, and Chanyeol suppressed his retort of _you still can’t_ that’s on the tip of his tongue and settling for patting Sehun on the back. Chanyeol left him to brood before pulling bananas out of the refrigerator and slicing them up.  
  
Sehun’s failed love life aside, neither he or Chanyeol could deal with customers without wanting to fling themselves off of cliffs, which was a skill that Baekhyun naturally seemed to possess. The customer service, that is. Not the flinging off of cliffs. Although Chanyeol wouldn’t half mind if he did that too.  
  
Baekhyun had a knack for talking, it was as simple as that. He knew the right things to say to the person, could go on for hours about something only to denounce it the next second with someone else. It’s fascinating but tiring he thinks, watching Baekhyun talk circles around himself, buttering the customers up with free samples and stories ranging from what his older brother used to do to him when they were growing up together to a stunt that he’d pulled as a university freshman that had nearly landed him in jail. (Chanyeol frowns at that particular story. He’s disappointed, but not exactly surprised.)  
  
He has to admit that he’s a little jealous of the easy rhythm Baekhyun has with his words, his relaxed tone and ability to read situations and know what to do in them. Chanyeol, on the other hand, isn’t the greatest with social interaction. He used to love the social events his elementary school hosted every so often, loved watching the parents talk to each other while he ran around with the other children. But by now he would’ve been a sophomore if he’d gone to university, and those days are long over. He hadn’t made an effort to really talk to anyone besides Jongdae and Sehun before Baekhyun had come along.  
  
“You call that a pineapple upside down cake?” Baekhyun leans over his shoulder. “Chanyeol, I could shit something better than that.”  
  
Chanyeol grits his teeth and resists the urge to throw something, preferably something sharp, at Baekhyun’s face.  
  
Screw him and his social dexterity.  
  
  
  
Fall always comes in slowly. Chanyeol barely registers the slow darkening of skies and slight chilling of temperatures in the morning before leaves are already falling off of trees and turning golden hues. But then again, Chanyeol doesn’t notice much outside of EXO, too caught up in pastry puff fillings and cotillion cakes. Seoul doesn’t really start getting cold until it’s nearing the end of October, but this year Chanyeol feels the chill as early as September, although any slight drop in temperature was seen as a blessing after the summer they’d had.  
  
That afternoon had been one of his rougher days, even without the added stress of rush hour. He’d been left to deal with some cake orders on his own, since Sehun had extra rehearsals for an upcoming dance showcase and Baekhyun was who knows where. Usually, he doesn’t mind cake orders. He finds himself getting invested in the happiness bubbling up at the thought of future wedding cakes, or baby shower cakes, or whatever somewhat significant event that demanded a cake. He had once designed a cake for the funeral of a girl’s pet fish. Surprisingly, not the oddest request he’s gotten.  
  
The only issue is, the last couple that Chanyeol sits down with is the daughter of a renowned food critic and her husband to be, and he had barely been able to hold in his excitement until they had left.  
  
Is it better to go for a triple tier or double? Dirty icing or layers of fondant? Round or square? Chanyeol doesn’t know. The couple hadn’t been very specific, just that there had to be flowers involved, somehow.  
  
Chanyeol spends the next few hours sketching out various cake designs, only to ball them up and trash them immediately. He’s determined to make this cake as perfect as he can possibly get it, because who knows what she might say to her father, and what if there’s a chance that EXO gets nominated for an award? Or maybe a chance for Chanyeol to participate in a baking show?  
  
He’s getting ahead of himself.  
  
But however much he sketches and designs and tears out new paper and starts all over again, at the end of the day Chanyeol’s forced to admit defeat, left with nothing but an empty notebook. He can feel his eyes forcibly slipping shut, and a glance at the clock tells him that it’s 2AM. Chanyeol groans, because it’s going to take him at least another twenty minutes to get home, where he’ll get less than three hours of sleep before heading to EXO again. He lets his head fall onto his arms. Such is the life of a baker.  
  
The life of a baker, however, should not entail encountering the unwelcome presence of Byun Baekhyun outside of the bakery, and yet Chanyeol finds himself doing exactly that when he stumbles into his and Jongdae’s shared apartment at ass o’clock in the morning.  
  
“What are you doing here?” Chanyeol hisses when he sees a lump that is most definitely Baekhyun curled up on their living room couch.  
  
The lump stirs and shifts a bit, but continues to snore like a freight train.  
  
Chanyeol gives himself a moment to process the fact that Baekhyun snores in his sleep (he’s really, really, really tempted to record him) before heading towards Jongdae’s room to ~~demand~~ ask him why Baekhyun was here in the first place.  
  
Except that Jongdae is asleep. Because it’s ass o'clock in the morning. Right. And Chanyeol has never been all that good at this whole confrontation thing, and he’s even worse when it comes to Jongdae, especially an angry Jongdae that hasn’t gotten enough sleep.  
  
He sighs. He’ll have to wait until the morning.  
  
He grabs a spare blanket from his room and tosses it onto Baekhyun, because that asshole had managed to kick the covers off.  
  
“You’re going to catch a cold, you stupid fuck.” Chanyeol mutters, and tucks the corners of the blanket around the couch cushions, wrapping Baekhyun into a little cocoon.  
  
In the darkness, he can see the light of the moon soften the edges around Baekhyun’s face, which makes him look younger. More innocent. Less likely to body roll to Sistar19’s “Ma Boy” every five seconds.  
  
Chanyeol doesn’t know how long he stands there, watching Baekhyun exhale little puffs of air, but when he wakes up the next day the blanket is neatly folded into a square and there’s a post-it note stuck on top.  
  
_Thanks for the blanket! Nice choice ;) - BBH_  
  
An obnoxiously large heart has been scrawled in the lower left hand corner, and Chanyeol peels back the post-it to find that he’d chosen his blanket with the little Rilakkumas’ all over it.  
  
Chanyeol groans and drops his head into his hands.  
  
He can practically hear Baekhyun’s laughter from miles away.  
  
  
  
“Yeah, I’m not quite sure why he was there last night, maybe he snuck in? Do you think we could file a report for breaking and entering? Get him arrested?” is what Jongdae _doesn’t_ say when Chanyeol calls him early next morning.  
  
“His roommate was a major douche,” Jongdae’s explaining, voice crackling through Chanyeol’s phone. “Threw parties all the time, then blamed it on Baek. So the landlord kicked him out.”  
  
Chanyeol leans back in his chair, the wheels groaning under his weight. “And where does the holy Chenyeol apartment come into all of this?”  
  
“Chanyeol,” Jongdae deadpans, “That apartment hasn’t been holy ever since you got drunk at Junmyeon’s.”  
  
Chanyeol crosses his arms out of habit more than anything (so he claims), then says, “I didn’t know the punch was spiked!”  
  
“Moving on,” Jongdae says, and Chanyeol can physically feel the eye roll that Jongdae’s sending him from miles away. “Baekhyun needs a place to stay, I offered him our couch if he promised to cook, and voila. He’s now an official, full-time resident of the Chenyeol apartment. Deal with it.”  
  
“Okay, but where was the part where you let me know, through any form of social media, or god forbid, a conversation, that there would be a near stranger sleeping at our place?” Chanyeol hisses into the phone, ignoring the strange looks Sehun’s been sending him when he thinks Chanyeol can’t see him.  
  
“I did, remember?” Jongdae says, and Chanyeol can hear the frown in his words. “I called you yesterday.”  
  
Chanyeol scrolls through his notifications, only to find that Jongdae, in fact, had called him four times yesterday at 6:53pm.  
  
Voicemail #1: _“Hey, heads up that Baekhyun’s staying over for… I don’t know how long. Baek! When do you think– Ah. He doesn’t know how long either. He’ll be here for like, eternity.”_  
  
Voicemail #2: _“Chanyeol? Baekhyun’s staying over? Just so you know? It’s a long story but … I’ll tell you when you get back.”_  
  
Voicemail #3: _“Are you dead in a ditch or something? Pick up your phone, goddamn it.”_  
  
Voicemail #4: _“Okay, I’m assuming you lost your phone, have been brutally murdered, or you’re just staying late again. If you fell asleep there again, I swear to god I will revoke your anime privileges.”_  
  
“Am I right, or am I right?” Jongdae says smugly, which Chanyeol’s sure he picked up from Baekhyun.  
  
“You’re right,” Chanyeol grumbles out, and he tries not to take the celebratory whoops Jongdae lets out to heart.  
  
“He’ll only be here until he finds a new place,” Jongdae’s saying, but Chanyeol’s too busy thinking about what Baekhyun would look like standing in front of the stove wearing the ratty apron that Chanyeol had gotten as a moving in present, or Baekhyun throwing his music theory books everywhere the way Jongdae did, or how his bed head would look in the morning, all mussed up and frizzy.  
  
“Chanyeol? You still there?”  
  
The beeping noise from the phone echoes when Jongdae finally hangs up, and all Chanyeol can think about is how royally fucked he is.  
  
  
  
It’s hard to get used to walking into the apartment late at night and not immediately flopping down onto the couch. The first time Chanyeol had done that, he’d ended up with a bloody nose and a bruised face, courtesy of Baekhyun.  
  
“How was I supposed to know that it was you and not someone trying to break in?” Baekhyun protests over breakfast the next day, and Chanyeol has to admit that he has a point.  
  
That’s another thing that Chanyeol’s not quite used to yet: the presence of actual, home-cooked meals at least two times a day.  
  
Apparently, unlike Chanyeol, Baekhyun’s culinary skills extend beyond that of cupcakes and cookies and go into things that involve stoves. And like, fire.  
  
Baekhyun may consistently forget to do his share of the laundry, may play music at obnoxiously loud volumes and leave dirty dishes lying around, but it’s all worth it when Chanyeol gets to eat food that’s oddly reminiscent of his childhood. The japchae tastes like the kind his mother used to make for him back when they used to get along, and the naengmyeon reminds him of what he used to buy at street stalls.  
  
“Did I just see you cry over the bibimbap?” Baekhyun says, turning around from his position at the stove and pointing the spatula at him accusingly.  
  
Chanyeol freezes in place, eyes widening when he actually does, to his horror, feel wetness at the corner of his eyes. “I was tearing up over how bad it was,” he manages to say, “I had something in my eye. I think it was your lack of decent cooking skills.”  
  
“Your ears look like they’re on fire.” Baekhyun deadpans.  
  
“Damn it.” Chanyeol mutters under his breath, and stabs his chopsticks into his bowl of bibimbap.  
  
He feels Baekhyun take a seat across from him at the table and mentally braces himself for whatever Baekhyun’s got in store.  
  
“So, how is it?” Baekhyun says, leaning back in his chair.  
  
“S’good.” Chanyeol forces out, and does his best to ignore Baekhyun’s shit-eating grin.  
  
“That’s all I wanted to hear.”  
  
Chanyeol keeps his head down and waits for Baekhyun to move back to the stove, or for Jongdae to come back from class and save him, but all that happens is Baekhyun saying, “I could teach you, you know.”  
  
Chanyeol glances up and studies Baekhyun’s face for any signs of laughter, because this is a far cry from the Baekhyun who liked to hostilely take over Chanyeol’s role as head baker, but finds himself coming up empty.  
  
When Baekhyun looks back at him again, Chanyeol honestly can’t tell what’s going on in his mind at that moment.  
  
“Okay?” Chanyeol says, doing his best to keep his expression neutral, even though every nerve in his body is screaming.  
  
“Okay.” Baekhyun says, and sends Chanyeol a small half smile, before finally getting up and walking away.  
  
“What on earth just happened,” Chanyeol whispers aloud to his chopsticks, which are slowly slipping from their position in the bibimbap and land with an ungraceful plop onto Chanyeol’s face.  
  
  
  
He should’ve realized that Baekhyun wasn’t going to go easy on him.  
  
“What do you know about cooking?” Baekhyun asks him the next day, after forcing Chanyeol into an apron nearly two sizes too small and stained with what Chanyeol can only hope is food dye.  
  
He racks his brain for a moment, before coming up with, “It’s loud and the end result is good.”  
  
“Loud.” Baekhyun says, looking thoroughly unimpressed.  
  
Chanyeol resists the urge to cross his arms. “When you pour the oil in and it does the crackly thing.”  
  
“That’s not– wow. Okay, this is going to be harder than I thought.” Baekhyun shakes his head, before asking, “Do you really have no idea how to cook?”  
  
“I’ve always been better with flour and dough than stuff that has stoves involved.” Chanyeol shrugs, and sees Baekhyun pinch the bridge of his nose.  
  
“We’re starting from the beginning then.” Baekhyun mutters under his breath, before saying, “Do you know how to make gyeranjjim?”  
  
“I know how to crack eggs?” Chanyeol offers with a sheepish smile, and promptly yelps when Baekhyun turns the range hood on. (He’s ashamed to admit that he only knows the name because Baekhyun had complained about their previous one being inadequate and pulled out the old one he had had at his previous place.)  
  
“Okay, Bakery Boy–”  
  
“That is _not_ a thing,” Chanyeol scowls, only for Baekhyun to smile sweetly at him.  
  
“–start crackin’.”  
  
  
  
Cooking, as Chanyeol learns soon enough, is entirely different from baking.  
  
For one, there’s the mess of cooking oil, and the fact that their stove doesn’t work very well, so whenever Baekhyun turns it on Chanyeol has taken to jumping back on instinct for fear of setting his apron on fire. (Unfortunately, it’s happened more than once).  
  
Another thing Chanyeol learns is that Baekhyun likes to hum under his breath whenever he’s chopping garlic, or stir-frying vegetables. He doesn’t know how he does it, since Chanyeol can barely get the knife to go in the right direction, but Baekhyun manages to dice the onions into neat little cubes, all the while humming along to “Ice Cream Cake” by Red Velvet.  
  
“How do you manage to not chop your finger off?” Chanyeol says, running his hand under cold water after getting a little too close to the stove.  
  
Baekhyun shrugs. “I’m used to it. You should’ve seen me when I first started.” He takes off his jacket, and Chanyeol’s eyes widen at the sudden expanse of skin that’s being exposed.  
  
Baekhyun rolls his eyes when he sees Chanyeol’s reaction, saying, “Relax, I’m not going to strip or anything.” Baekhyun pauses to wink. “That’s for later tonight.”  
  
Chanyeol grumbles out, “Asshole,” while Baekhyun gestures to the thin white scar that starts at the crook at his elbow and traces down to his wrist.  
  
“I got this the summer before university.” Baekhyun says, and Chanyeol frowns internally, because fuck, that’s a big scar.  
  
“You were cooking then?”  
  
Baekhyun nods. “Parents wanted me to learn how to ‘Adult’.”  
  
“Ah,” Chanyeol says, because what is he supposed to say in response to that? It’s the first time he can remember holding a civilized conversation with Baekhyun that’s consisted of more than just grunts of recognition or trading insults back and forth. He’s not sure how to feel.  
  
“Anyway, we should probably call it quits today. If I spend another minute inhaling smoke fumes from your first try at a traditional French omelette, not that American shit, I’m going to keel over.”  
  
Never mind, Chanyeol thinks, scowling. He knows exactly how to feel: majorly pissed off.  
  
  
  
By now, Chanyeol figures it’s been a good three months since Baekhyun’s started working at EXO, and one month since he’s moved in.  
  
He’s learned that Baekhyun’s usually out the door early in the morning since he signed up for morning classes (a decision that Baekhyun has complained loudly about on more than one occasion), but generally keeps his afternoons reserved for EXO. In a way, it works out quite nicely, since Sehun’s dance classes are all scheduled in the afternoon, although recently he’s been missing more and more often due to an upcoming showcase.  
  
What that means for Chanyeol though, is that in the mornings he invites Luhan over to swap baked goods for some flowers, while Sehun drifts about in the background trying to disappear but also make Luhan notice him. It’s an ongoing process.  
  
Usually, Luhan stays beyond the five minutes he only says he has, before accepting Chanyeol’s proffered slice of caramel pecan cheesecake and sitting by the countertop, swinging his feet idly.  
  
“I mean, you know how Jongdae is, he’s shitty but truly a good person, so of course he took Baekhyun in.” Chanyeol’s saying, mopping the counters while Luhan absentmindedly takes a bite of the cheesecake– today it’s mocha-flavored. “So I get _why_ Baekhyun’s stuck at our apartment for the next, like, three decades, but does he have to raid my wardrobe while he’s at it?  
  
Because it’s true: Chanyeol has come home many a night only to find Baekhyun sprawled out on the couch in one of his old hoodies, or perched at the dining room table in Chanyeol’s sweats and the Rilakkuma blanket bundled around his torso. He thinks he’s even found one of his boxers tucked between the couch cushions, although he has yet to work up the courage to ask Baekhyun about it.  
  
He’d confronted Baekhyun the first time he’d done it though. He’d found him wrapped up in an old sweatshirt reading _Got Seoul?_ that Sehun had presented to him as a gag gift for his birthday, thinking it would be a funny joke, and Chanyeol hadn’t bothered to get rid of it yet. (It’s comfy, okay?)  
  
“I-Is that mine?” Chanyeol stammered out, for lack of anything better to say.  
  
Baekhyun glanced at him, adjusting glasses that Chanyeol didn’t realize he had. “I’m pretty sure you co-own this apartment, so you’re going to have to get a little more specific than that.”  
  
Chanyeol narrowed his eyes. _This fucker._ “The sweatshirt, you ass.”  
  
Baekhyun looked down, acting as if he’d only just realized what he was wearing, before dramatically gasping and saying, “You mean this? My, I don’t know, I could’ve sworn I found it in Jongdae’s room?” He tapped his head in mock thought.  
  
“That’s mine.” Chanyeol had grit out, and Baekhyun smirked at him.  
  
“Bingo, you can recognize your own wardrobe. Do you want a prize?”  
  
Chanyeol responded by spinning on his heel and stalking out of the room, making sure to slam the door– hard– on his way out.  
  
He could hear Baekhyun’s laughter echoing in the corridor, and he vowed to buy a lock for his closet the next day.  
  
“Only, I bought the lock, and he still found a way in?” Luhan’s nodding along to his story, but his eyes are trained elsewhere– Chanyeol suspects Sehun has finally made a grand entrance after fleeing to the back room upon Luhan’s arrival. “I don’t know how, but I keep changing locks– hell, I tried barricading it with a chair _and_ I switched locks and he still found a way in. So I don’t know what I’m doing wrong.”  
  
Luhan makes a noise of acknowledgement, and Chanyeol appreciates the fact that he’s at least trying to give off the impression that he’s listening, which is more than what Sehun’s been doing whenever Chanyeol tries to complain to him, which is blatantly ignoring him with hands over his ears, full on singing at the top of his lungs.  
  
(“It’s not my fault that I don’t want to hear you angsting over your new roommate, hyung.”)  
  
“I’ve pretty much given up at this point,” he tells Luhan, “I told him yesterday that he could use my closet as much as he wants if he promises not to touch any of the hats– but I’m pretty sure he’s already raided my snapback collection, so there’s no point in that either.”  
  
Chanyeol only realizes that Luhan has long since tuned out when he sees him actually attempt to bite into the cheesecake wrapper, and after looking back and forth between Luhan and Sehun for a moment, he rolls his eyes and says, “Oh, never mind. I’ll go talk to Yixing.”  
  
Chanyeol makes his way next door, belatedly wondering whether leaving Sehun in charge was a good idea, especially with Luhan in the bakery, but then shrugs it off. Worst comes to worse, he can always blackmail Sehun into dealing with it using the pictures Chanyeol has of his unfortunate long hair era. (He’d tried going for an extreme bowl cut look– needless to say, it didn’t work out.)  
  
  
  
They still have their daily cooking sessions, sometimes accompanied by Jongdae and his magical ability to eat the ingredients before they have a chance to use them (Chanyeol had once caught him trying to stuff an entire root of ginger in his mouth), but most of the time it’s just the two of them.  
  
Baekhyun’s usually donned both an old flannel of Chanyeol’s and an apron by the time Chanyeol wanders in for dinner, and proceeds to teach him how to gut a fish.  
  
In the weeks that pass, Chanyeol upgrades from “The-One-Who-Tells-Baekhyun-The-Recipe” to “Not-Flinching-Every-Time-The-Stove-Is-On”, which is a pretty big accomplishment, by his own standards.  
  
Even Baekhyun seems somewhat satisfied with his progress, despite the fact that he still criticizes Chanyeol on his technique every now and then. Chanyeol doesn’t miss the small smiles Baekhyun shoots his way when Jongdae makes a sound of approval after sampling dishes that he’d made.  
  
The nice thing about living with vocal performance majors, Chanyeol thinks, is that they know how to sing (although the various karaoke nights Chanyeol has attended with Jongdae tell a different story), so he isn’t surprised to hear Baekhyun’s voice floating through the air as he works out the melody for an assignment.  
  
At this point, Baekhyun feels comfortable enough to let Chanyeol try to make him jajangmyeon while he works on class assignments nearby, and Chanyeol tries not to let the little bubble of growing pride consume him. He has to admit that the process goes along a lot faster with Baekhyun’s voice singing softly in the background, providing just the right amount of background noise.  
  
Baekhyun’s voice is different from Jongdae’s, which Chanyeol thinks is naturally higher pitched and smoother, but there’s this soothing quality about Baekhyun’s voice, one that could lull him to sleep on the worst nights. Baekhyun’s voice feels lighter somehow, resonating but still soft in his own way.  
  
He finds himself shooting less and less glares at Baekhyun and more smiles instead. Beyond the layer of arrogance and sexual innuendos, Baekhyun seems to be genuinely passionate about singing, and Chanyeol has caught him every now and then giving weekly updates to his parents via phone calls on the weekends.  
  
Chanyeol wishes he could give weekly updates to his parents.  
  
Sehun, despite his stunning obliviousness when it comes to Luhan, can sometimes be shockingly perceptive, which is what Chanyeol forgets when Sehun approaches him one day and asks in a low tone, “Have you started doing drugs?”  
  
Chanyeol’s eyes widen, and Sehun must sense the mental _“what the fuck”_ vibes Chanyeol’s sending him, because Sehun hurriedly goes on to say, “Not that there would be a problem if you did! Of course,” he says, coughing awkwardly to hide the fact that his cheeks have gone red, “But you’ve just been acting weird lately, and I just thought–”  
  
“How?” Chanyeol says, stunned, still staring at Sehun.  
  
“Well,” Sehun shrugs, looking down at the floor, “I don’t know how to describe it. You seem happier I guess? You don’t insult Baekhyun that much anymore.” Sehun pauses for a moment. “I mean, you do, but you don’t seem to mean it as much as you used to. Plus you laughed at one of his jokes,” Sehun says, voice dropping down to a whisper. “You’ve never done that before.”  
  
Chanyeol sags against the wall in relief, because honestly, drugs?  
  
“I’m fine,” he says, “I don’t even smoke, Sehun, how on earth would you think– never mind,” he cuts himself off, shaking his head, “I promise that I am not going insane, or doing anything illegal. Baekhyun’s just funny sometimes.”  
  
Sehun’s jaw drops open in an almost comical way, which causes Chanyeol to frown.  
  
“What? Did I say something?”  
  
“You called Baekhyun funny,” Sehun breathes out, “You _complimented_ him.”  
  
Chanyeol blinks. “It’s called being a nice person,” he says slowly, and heads back to the oven to grab the latest batch of oatmeal lace cookies.  
  
_Honestly,_ Chanyeol thinks, shaking his head, _You call a guy funny and suddenly the world’s falling apart._  
  
  
  
The auditorium is packed, and Chanyeol has to jostle people out of the way (with a polite, “Excuse me!” on hand, of course) to get to his seat near the front.  
  
He feels a little out of place, his tie scratching at the base of his neck and suit a little too tight.  
  
“Did you get the posters?” He leans over to ask Jongdae, who nods and gives him a thumbs up.  
  
When Sehun had first mentioned the dance showcase, Chanyeol had had no doubt that he would go. Not only was it Sehun’s first dance showcase of his university career, he also had managed to snag a solo spot, and Chanyeol had been more than ready to ditch his double breasted uniform for a suit and tie getup, even if it was uncomfortably itchy.  
  
He spots Baekhyun holding the massive bouquet of roses that the three of them had insisted on buying, despite Sehun’s protests that it wasn’t necessary.  
  
(“But you’re all grown up!” Jongdae coos, clinging onto Sehun’s taller frame, who’s busy trying to convince Baekhyun to stop squishing his cheeks, goddamn it.)  
  
Of course, they had also unanimously agreed to embarrass the fuck out of him.  
  
(“After all, what kind of friends would we be if we didn’t?” Jongdae had said.)  
  
When the curtain finally opens to reveal Sehun standing alone on the stage in the dark, Baekhyun lets out a shrill cry of, “Fighting, Sehun-oppa!” with Chanyeol and Jongdae chorusing similar sentiments.  
  
Chanyeol thinks he sees Sehun visibly shudder and grins to himself.  
  
But the moment the music starts, the snickers from the audience die down and all eyes focus on Sehun.  
  
He’s fluid in the way he moves, Chanyeol notes, moving with a grace that he doesn’t remember Sehun possessing before. The footwork is more than just intricate, and Chanyeol can feel himself becoming dizzy as he tries to follow Sehun’s steps. There’s a certain power in the way Sehun moves, commanding attention with every flick of his wrist. The way his hips are rolling is absolutely sinful, and Chanyeol’s sweating by the time Sehun breaks out into the hip thrusts.  
  
He doesn’t remember the performance ending, just knew that one moment Sehun was standing with his back facing the audience, waiting for the music to start, and the next moment he’s bowing on stage and being showered with roses, courtesy of Baekhyun.  
  
“My baby,” Jongdae sniffles into Chanyeol’s sleeve, pretending to wipe away tears forming at the corners of his eyes. “Look at him.”  
  
And Chanyeol does, really takes the time to look at Sehun standing on stage, smile glowing radiantly under the bright lights, bowing again and again, and a part of him thinks that all the effort that they put into tonight, the roses, the screaming, the posters– it was all genuine.  
  
  
  
“Sehun!” Chanyeol calls out, managing to grab a hold of his arm before he disappears into the crowd. “You were amazing!”  
  
Sehun grins at him, eyes sparkling with what can only be described as complete and total happiness, and says, “You really think so?”  
  
Chanyeol nods, watches Sehun pull another dancer in front of him. “This is Jongin,” he says, and Chanyeol vaguely remembers him as the one who’d done the duet with Yixing. Which reminds him, he needs to go find Yixing and say congratulations to him too.  
  
“I’m Chanyeol,” he shouts to be heard, watches as Jongin processes the name and stretches out a hand for him to shake.  
  
It’s in this moment that Chanyeol thinks he has an inkling of the feeling that Baekhyun must have every time the bell on the door dings and someone walks into EXO. It’s a giddy sensation, one that makes him feel as if he was invincible, as if he could conquer the world and then tear it apart. He thinks he might understand why Baekhyun’s so drawn towards small talk, so drawn towards the rush you get when you crack a joke and someone laughs, or when you introduce yourself to someone new in a crowded and noisy auditorium, and they respond with a smile.  
  
“Junmyeon’s hosting a party!” Sehun calls, and Chanyeol nods to confirm that he’s heard.  
  
“I’ll find you later, I need to go get Jongdae and Baekhyun!” Chanyeol shouts, and watches Sehun grow impossibly redder as Luhan makes his way over.  
  
Chanyeol grins to himself as he scans the crowd.  
  
It’s Friday night, he’s got some of his closest friends in the world with him, and they’re going to go out and have a few drinks. What could go wrong?  
  
  
  
As it turns out, quite a bit could go wrong.  
  
For one, Baekhyun is a lightweight.  
  
Chanyeol finds this out two hours too late, after entering Junmyeon’s house straight out of an HGTV catalogue.  
  
(“His family’s loaded,” Jongdae had whispered to him when Chanyeol had first gone to a party there two years ago.)  
  
He had promptly lost Jongdae after the first round of shots, vaguely remembering him calling out something about beer pong before disappearing into the flashing lights and thumping bass.  
  
Chanyeol’s attended his fair share of parties, has bounced around from club scenes and house parties alike back when he and Jongdae had just moved into the Chenyeol apartment. None of it has ever felt right though, something inevitably feeling off long before the night is over. They felt more of like a ticked checkbox on his list of Things To Do Before I Die, rather than an actual university party with cheap beer and mediocre dancing at best.  
  
Chanyeol’s reminded of all this and more, is reminded of why exactly he attends parties in the same way that America’s political ego shrinks. (That is to say, not at all.)  
  
He’s busy nursing a beer in the corner of the dance floor when he hears it.  
  
“Chanyeollie!” Baekhyun calls out with a bright grin, wobbling slightly on his feet and subsequently sloshing the contents of his red solo cup all over Chanyeol.  
  
“Oops,” Baekhyun giggles, ( _he fucking giggles_ , Chanyeol thinks to himself) eyes crinkling at the corners and hand slapped over his mouth in an attempt to hide his smile.  
  
Chanyeol is completely, unbelievably, Not Equipped to deal with this right now.  
  
Sober Baekhyun was already one Baekhyun too many, but drunk Baekhyun? A whole new level of monstrosity. Lock the doors. Hide the children.  
  
Chanyeol watches as Baekhyun attempts to walk the three feet it would take to be standing next to Chanyeol, only to turn in the wrong direction and faceplant onto the wall.  
  
He tries his best to stifle a laugh, because wow, he never thought he’d get to see Baekhyun in _this_ position, but all the laughter promptly disappears when Baekhyun manages to successfully make it over to where Chanyeol is, and collapses. On top of Chanyeol.  
  
The reaction is immediate: all of his bones lock up and his muscles tense underneath Baekhyun’s weight, worried that one wrong move could land him with a black eye and a restraining order.  
  
“Chanyeol, Chanyeol,” Baekhyun says, clapping his hands animatedly. “Do you think apples know they have seeds?”  
  
Chanyeol blinks in disbelief. This was going to be a long night.  
  
  
  
On the rare occasions that Jongdae manages to get Chanyeol to actually down shots, Chanyeol’s been told that he doesn’t really change. He falls into that strange category where he might mix up his left shoe with his right, sure, but he never has any intense desires to break into stores late at night or release animals from the nearest petting zoo.  
  
Baekhyun, unfortunately for Chanyeol, falls into a state of delirious euphoria whenever he’s had more than five drops of alcohol, and Chanyeol finds himself stuck with Baekhyun’s lack of a filter for the rest of the night.  
  
“I think that girl is cheating on her boyfriend,” Baekhyun attempts to whisper, only his voice comes out as more of a shout, causing the girls in his near vicinity to glare at the two of them.  
  
“That’s nice,” Chanyeol says, and inwardly prays for someone to rescue him.  
  
“I have a secret,” Baekhyun slurs, hushing his voice for dramatic effect.  
  
“That’s nice,” Chanyeol repeats like a mantra. Maybe he can convince Jongin, who looks polite and responsible and not at all likely to cry over swans, to drive them home.  
  
“I think you’re kind of hot.”  
  
“That’s– wait what?”  
  
Chanyeol looks at Baekhyun, who is still infuriatingly sprawled over his lap, and double checks that he isn’t losing his hearing.  
  
“What did you just say?”  
  
In response, Baekhyun leans to the side, drops his cup, and chooses that moment to pass out.  
  
  
  
The next morning, Chanyeol watches in silence as Baekhyun fumbles his way around the apartment, trying (and failing) to locate the painkillers.  
  
Is he supposed to bring it up?  
  
The rest of the night had gone by in a haze: Chanyeol dragging Baekhyun into a taxi on their way back, struggling with the lock on their door while Baekhyun had been unconscious beside him. He had almost been afraid that Baekhyun wouldn’t wake up the next morning, but at 4AM he had heard the telltale sounds of Baekhyun’s snoring and deemed him okay.  
  
Chanyeol sneaks a glance at Baekhyun again. He’s finally made it to the medicine cabinet, but now seems to be trying to down mouthwash.  
  
“Wrong bottle,” he calls out lazily, watching Baekhyun reach for the ibuprofen this time.  
  
He doesn’t know how to proceed from here. Does he confront Baekhyun? Pretend it never happened? From what he can tell, Baekhyun doesn’t have a single inkling of what happened last night, which works slightly to his advantage, but he’s still at a loss as for what to do.  
  
He feels– pleased? Vaguely. It’s not everyday that Baekhyun compliments someone, and it’s even rarer when that someone is Chanyeol.  
  
“Is there anything for breakfast?” Jongdae says, emerging from his bedroom with a sleepy yawn and a smile that’s way too bright for this early in the morning.  
  
Jongdae falls into an even more obscure category of drunk people: the ones who can empty glass after glass and still wake up the next morning with their entire brain functioning normally. No hangover, no vomiting, no nothing.  
  
“I hate you,” Baekhyun wails from his position by the toilet, and Chanyeol inwardly voices his agreement as well, because while he may be able to hold his alcohol better than Baekhyun (although, pretty much everyone can hold their alcohol better than Baekhyun), he still gets hangovers.  
  
“There might be leftovers in the fridge?” Chanyeol says, and immediately Jongdae’s eyes zero in on him.  
  
_Something’s bothering you,_ his eyes say.  
  
Chanyeol curses Jongdae’s ability to read his mind. _Nothing’s bothering me,_ he shoots back.  
  
Jongdae raises an eyebrow and leans in to whisper, making sure to keep his voice down so that Baekhyun can’t hear. “You always jump at the chance to make breakfast, ever since Baekhyun taught you how to make gyeran-mari. You practically tried to bite my head off the one time I suggested we just settle for cereal, so yeah, something’s definitely bothering you.”  
  
Honestly, Chanyeol needs to stop underestimating the people around him.  
  
“Baekhyun said that I was ‘hot’,” he whispers back, “I don’t know what to do.”  
  
Jongdae rolls his eyes, and Chanyeol quells the rising urge smack him, because this is a Very Big Deal to him, okay?  
  
“He’s been saying that for ages now, Chanyeol. It’s nothing new.”  
  
“What?” Chanyeol yelps, before Jongdae shushes him and Baekhyun pokes his head out of the bathroom.  
  
“You two are clearly up to something,” Baekhyun groans out, “But I can’t be bothered to care when I’m about to puke my entire respiratory system out.”  
  
Chanyeol and Jongdae watch in mute horror as Baekhyun makes a strangled noise, before proceeding to do exactly that.  
  
  
  
Despite the fact that they haven’t gotten too much snow yet, Chanyeol can definitely feel the effects of winter. Seoul’s winters are never overwhelmingly long, and they don’t get constant blizzards, but they do get their fair share of snowstorms, along with dry, howling winds that pierce through you and leave you feeling hollow. Chanyeol can tell it’s winter when he’s forced to wear two pairs of pants (he ended up borrowing some of Jongdae’s leggings), or when he bundles himself up into his coat as best as he can and finds himself dreading his daily ten minute commute.  
  
With all that’s been happening, Chanyeol almost forgets about the wedding cake order. That is, until he checks his inbox one day to find an email from none other than the client’s father, the acclaimed food critic himself, detailing his wishes that Chanyeol would craft a cake that “could not be described in words”.  
  
Chanyeol gulps when he reads the line about the critic urging his daughter to order from somewhere else, somewhere bigger, with a more established reputation, but his daughter had been firm in choosing EXO, and her father had had no choice but to let it go.  
  
The email ends with, _“I’ve heard good things about your bakery, and I hope that I’ll continue to hear many more.”_  
  
Chanyeol pushes back in his chair, slowly, and it dawns on him just how screwed he is.  
  
  
  
“Chanyeol? Someone’s calling you.”  
  
Baekhyun reaches over to give Chanyeol the phone, and turns back to his task of blind baking the tart crusts.  
  
“Hello?”  
  
“Chanyeol, how are you?”  
  
Chanyeol’s blood runs cold. He would be able to recognize that voice anywhere.  
  
“Dad,” he grits out, and sees Baekhyun look at him with interest.  
  
“Just wanted to let you know that we’re in town! We’ll be dropping by your little bakery in, oh I don’t know, maybe ten minutes?”  
  
Ten minutes. Chanyeol can feel his pulse racing in overdrive.  
  
“That’s– that’s great.” he manages to say, before his father hangs up on him and the line goes dead.  
  
He can’t breathe. The lights suddenly feel too bright, the walls seem to be closing in inch by inch, and his lungs are deflating. Is the room spinning?  
  
“Chanyeol?” Baekhyun says hesitantly, hand coming to rest on his back. “Are you okay?”  
  
He can’t possibly imagine how he looks in that moment, eyes startled and wild, face flushed red. He can’t speak. Why can’t he speak?  
  
“Listen, I’m going to call Jongdae, okay? Just wait in the back room.” Baekhyun says, flipping the sign on their front door so that it reads closed and ushering Chanyeol in.  
  
As he huddles onto the couch, he can faintly hear Baekhyun’s conversation with Jongdae. There’s a silent countdown happening in his mind, every tick of the second hand accentuated.  
  
_Nine minutes, thirty two seconds._  
  
He thought he was over this, the horrible, horrible feeling of being smaller than you actually are, of feeling so helpless and defenseless and downright useless. He hates it, he hates the tears threatening to spill from his eyes and the incessant memories that pour from the depths of his mind, one phone call being the catalyst for it all.  
  
_Seven minutes, fifty four seconds._  
  
Why is it that his parents have this effect on him? Will they forever have this effect on him?  
  
_Six minutes, eleven seconds._  
  
He doesn’t know how he stays in that position, curled into a ball and eyes glazed over from staring blankly at the wall opposite him, but eventually Jongdae rushes into the room, with five minutes and twenty eight seconds left to spare.  
  
“Hey, it’ll be okay. Baekhyun’s going to take you back to the apartment, I’ll stay here and do damage control.”  
  
“B-but you have class?” Chanyeol stutters, and Jongdae flashes him a tight smile.  
  
“This is more important,” he says, and gives Chanyeol’s hand a squeeze. “I’ll tell you when it’s safe to come back, alright?”  
  
“Okay,” Chanyeol whispers, voice growing soft.  
  
“Okay.” Jongdae nods, and sees Chanyeol and Baekhyun out of EXO.  
  
  
  
The car ride is charged with tension.  
  
He can almost hear Baekhyun’s thoughts churning and grinding and tumbling over one another in the recesses of his mind, but Baekhyun blissfully remains silent and doesn’t prod.  
  
“Do you want to go inside?”  
  
A shake of his head.  
  
“Okay,” Baekhyun says, and kills the engine.  
  
The silence that follows feels almost as suffocating as the black that’s threatening to swallow his lungs, so he forces his throat open and manages, “I’m sorry.”  
  
“Don’t be,” Baekhyun says, and maybe he can sense that Chanyeol isn’t going to say anything else, because he pulls his phone out and starts playing Piano Tiles 2.  
  
Chanyeol’s grateful for the distraction. Grateful that he doesn’t have to feel the weight of Baekhyun’s eyes on him.  
  
The first time his parents had dropped in unexpectedly, it was a mere few weeks after Chanyeol had officially told them that he was going to open his own bakery. After his parents had kicked him out of their house.  
  
Chanyeol laughs bitterly to himself.  
  
His relationship with his parents had never been horrible, per say. They’d had the same fights everyone else had had when he was growing up: when his curfew was, what he could and couldn’t wear, etc. etc. They were pretty close, actually, so it was a nasty shock when he had first showed off his blueberry muffins at the age of seven and found his parents applauding politely and telling him to not invest too much time in it.  
  
He doesn’t understand why they’d bother to show up after all this time– do they think their relationship is still salvageable? Or have they found out about EXO’s recent success and come to gloat?  
  
It’s the latter, he decides, and mentally thanks Jongdae from afar.  
  
  
  
They don’t talk about what happens after that.  
  
When Jongdae finally sends Baekhyun a text confirming that it’s safe, Baekhyun just quietly starts the car again and drives them to the bakery, humming under his breath.  
  
Jongdae doesn’t tell Chanyeol what went down that day. He’s dealt with Chanyeol’s parents before, back when they had first tried to reenter his life, so Chanyeol knows that he’s more than capable of taking the multiple phone calls they make the weeks after their surprise appearance at EXO. He makes sure that he has a bottle of soju for whenever Jongdae hangs up, and sits with him as Jongdae angrily downs the drink in an effort to calm his nerves.  
  
The calls stop soon after.  
  
  
  
“Chanyeol, what are you doing?”  
  
Chanyeol looks up from where he’s currently sprawled on the floor, and offers Sehun a sheepish smile.  
  
“Embracing my inner tiling?”  
  
Sehun crosses his arms and stares pointedly at him.  
  
Chanyeol rolls over with a groan, saying, “I don’t know what I’m going to do for this cake order. Why did they choose flowers? Everyone does flowers. How am I supposed to make something original out of that?”  
  
Sehun leans down and gives him a couple of pity pats on the back, before reaching into the pantry for raspberries.  
  
“You’ll figure something out. You always do.”  
  
He smiles weakly up at Sehun. “Thanks. Didn’t know you had it in you.”  
  
“Don’t start getting sappy now,” Sehun groans, “I already had enough of that at the showcase.”  
  
Chanyeol grins, reaching up to wrap an arm around Sehun and headlock him. “But Sehun-oppa, I just can’t help myself when I’m around you.”  
  
“You’ve been spending too much time with Baekhyun.”  
  
“Have I now?” Chanyeol says, releasing Sehun and doing his best to imitate Baekhyun’s smirk.  
  
“Yes,” Sehun grimaces, “It’s kind of disturbing.”  
  
For the first time that day, Chanyeol feels a laugh bubble out of his throat and spill into the air.  
  
  
  
Chanyeol’s cheek is pressed against the countertop, surrounded once again by crumpled up drawings.  
  
It seems that no matter what he chooses– filling in between the cake layers with ganache, decorating with a latticework of royal icing, crafting ribbons and bows out of pulled sugar– it’s just not enough. He’s determined to make this cake as perfect as he can get it, the magnum opus to defeat all other magnum opuses.  
  
In a desperate, last ditch effort, Chanyeol pages through a couple of baking magazines he checked out of the library earlier that week and spends some time googling ideas online, but nothing seems to feel quite right.  
  
He’d even contemplated doing a croquembouche, but pâte à choux dough is a bitch to work with, and Chanyeol has never been all that fond of cream puffs in the first place.  
  
When Luhan walks in, Chanyeol has moved on from trying to melt into the countertop and is currently debating whether shutting himself inside the refrigerator would be a viable option. Would he be frozen in time to avoid having to deal with this order?  
  
“Flowers!” he calls out cheerfully, and Chanyeol internally glares at him. Only internally, because Luhan could take out two guys on his own if he really tried, but he hasn’t done anything to offend Chanyeol personally. Except maybe by distracting Sehun too often.  
  
“Here, let me help.” Sehun says, hurrying to play knight and shining armor. Chanyeol nearly rolls his eyes.  
  
“What is it this time?” Chanyeol says, watching Sehun struggle with the vase of yellow and white flowers. Trust Luhan to have flowers in the middle of winter.  
  
“Primroses!” Luhan says with a smile, before reaching out to steady Sehun with a hand on his shoulder.  
  
This time Chanyeol can’t hold back his snort when he sees the flush on Sehun’s cheeks increase tenfold.  
  
“They represent eternal love,” Luhan says, and proceeds to launch into a rant about how no one ever seems to buy primroses because everyone favors flowers like tulips and hydrangeas more, and Chanyeol can’t tell if Sehun is more absorbed in watching Luhan’s exaggerated hand movements or the actual content of his rant.  
  
“Uh-huh,” he mumbles, and Chanyeol goes back to staring at his crumpled pieces of paper.  
  
Is there a such thing as baker’s block? Because he definitely has it.  
  
  
  
Chanyeol likes to think that he’s pretty responsible.  
  
He knows to switch out the paddle attachments and wash them in between mixes, and records all their sales and expenses in a little black checkbook.  
  
He knows how to debug the cash register, how to manage his time and work with a deadline in place. He’s even color-coded his copy of the delivery truck’s schedule, and he prides himself on the fact that he’s never missed a shipment out.  
  
So when Baekhyun asks him one afternoon, “Chanyeol, where’s the cake for this order?” He’s looking at the bulletin board in the back room, finger pointing at a slip of paper that looks all too familiar.  
  
His heart stops cold.  
  
_Shit._  
  
“That’s-that’s the order for the food critic’s daughter,” he finishes weakly, feeling all the air go out of him.  
  
“Well, where is it?” Baekhyun says, looking closer at the delivery truck’s schedule, “We’ve got to get it to the wedding in roughly four to five hours.”  
  
“I haven’t even start-started.” he hiccups, feeling tears well up in the corner of his eyes.  
  
Baekhyun sucks in a breath. “Oh.”  
  
“Yeah,” Chanyeol says.  
  
There’s a pause.  
  
“Well? Do you have any ideas at all? Sketches?”  
  
“No,” Chanyeol whispers, watching the hope fade from Baekhyun’s face little by little.  
  
Baekhyun knows how important this order is. Back when he liked to boot Chanyeol off to the cash register (although he still does that sometimes now), he’d gotten a taste of what it was like to bake and assemble multiple cakes within two to three days. But four hours?  
  
“Well, you can’t just sit there and mope,” Baekhyun says, doing his best to pry Chanyeol off of the countertop from where he’s been slumped.  
  
“Yes I can,” Chanyeol groans miserably. “I’m going to close EXO and enter the Witness Protection Program. Maybe I’ll get relocated to somewhere nice, like Iceland or Fiji.”  
  
Baekhyun rolls his eyes. “You’d die if you didn’t at least have a KitchenAid mixer.”  
  
“Not. Helping.” Chanyeol hisses.  
  
“Come on. We’re going to Iron Chef this shit.”  
  
  
  
Chanyeol’s eyes widen when he sees the amount of people that have gathered behind the counter. Baekhyun locks the front door and flips the sign, making sure to close the blinds as well.  
  
He recognizes Yixing and Jongin, and even Jongdae and Sehun have been pulled out of their classes for this. Baekhyun’s standing on top of the counter, hands cupped around his mouth in an attempt to imitate a microphone. There’s one person that Chanyeol doesn’t know, who’s currently rolling his eyes at a meme Jongdae’s trying to show him. They manage to make eye contact, and the guy leans over to say, “I’m Kyungsoo. Vocal performance major friend.”  
  
“Got it. I’m Chanyeol.” he says, and Kyungsoo leans back.  
  
“People!” Baekhyun calls, “We have a cake to make and four hours to do it!”  
  
“Yes sir!” Jongdae calls out mockingly, and everyone laughs.  
  
Baekhyun pretends to shoot a gun at him. Jongdae plays along and fakes his death.  
  
Kyungsoo clears his throat. “The cake?”  
  
“Ah, yes.” Baekhyun says, straightening up and pulling out a clipboard that Chanyeol hadn’t realized he owned. “Yixing and Jongin, cake batter duty. Jongdae and Kyungsoo, make the strawberry jam filling. Sehun, you’ve got buttercream frosting, and me and Chanyeol will handle the flowers. Everyone clear?”  
  
This time, everyone joins in on Jongdae’s loud cry of, “Yes sir!”  
  
“Get to work!” Baekhyun cries, and everyone rushes off to do just that.  
  
  
  
Chanyeol watches in disbelief, for the second time that day, as Jongin loads the chilled cooler into the delivery truck.  
  
They’d pulled it off. Somehow, by some stroke of luck, everyone had managed to do their part and finish their roles on time, with Yixing and Luhan rotating back and forth between EXO and the flower shop. Sure, Chanyeol nearly had a heart attack at the amount of sanitation rules being broken left and right, and they’d probably overused the blast chiller– but at the end of the day, they’ve finished the cake, and that’s all that really matters.  
  
“Are we riding in the truck, or driving separately?” he asks, and Baekhyun looks at him as if he’d just sprouted another ear.  
  
“If anything, god forbid, happens to that cake because someone doesn’t know how to drive, I will personally tear apart the truck and then stab the driver with the broken pieces.”  
  
Chanyeol looks in the rearview mirror and sees the driver gulp.  
  
“Duly noted,” he says, and follows Baekhyun into the truck.  
  
  
  
For all that he’d said about “defending the cake with his own body”, Baekhyun manages to fall asleep within the first ten minutes of the trip, head resting awkwardly on Chanyeol’s shoulder.  
  
He feels a bead of sweat drip down his face, and it’s not just from the impending reaction of the food critic.  
  
It’s strange, he thinks to himself, about how six months ago he wouldn’t have ever imagined a situation in which he was okay with Baekhyun using him as a pillow, but now he doesn’t look twice when Baekhyun’s head first droops downwards.  
  
If his parents had dropped by six months ago, he’s not sure how Baekhyun would’ve reacted. Bonded with them over mutual hatred? From what he can tell, Baekhyun’s on pretty good terms with his own parents. He tries to call them every weekend, or at least every other weekend, and Chanyeol even thinks he’s heard his name pop up once or twice. He has to admit that he’s jealous, because the last time he’d had a civil conversation with his parents had to be at least two years ago? Maybe even three? The last good day should’ve been his high school graduation.  
  
Then Baekhyun makes a sound similar to the cross of a hyena and a goose, and Chanyeol’s too busy laughing to care about his parents.  
  
  
  
Cake assembly is probably the worst part of any cake order.  
  
Everything is a delicate, delicate process, where if even one step goes wrong the entire cake could fall apart, which has only happened to Chanyeol once, and he’d like to keep it that way.  
  
Usually the orders are shipped out during the day, so he goes to the venues by himself while Sehun stays behind at EXO.  
  
This time he’s got Baekhyun to help him, although he’s not sure if that makes it any better.  
  
“Did we brush the luster dust on?” Baekhyun says, wringing his hands while watching Chanyeol carefully place the second tier on top of the first one.  
  
“Yes, it’s on.” Chanyeol lays down the last tier and steps back to admire.  
  
For something that was constructed in four hours and with Baekhyun breathing down his back at every moment, the cake looks stunning. It’s triple-tiered, with white fondant layers and a round base, all very traditional– except for the marzipan and gumpaste primroses covering every inch of the cake from the dragees at the bottom to the wedding cake topper at the top.  
  
“Oh my god, what if we forgot the cake board?” Baekhyun grasps at the collar of Chanyeol’s shirt. “Did you forget the cake board?”  
  
“Relax,” Chanyeol says, gently pushing Baekhyun’s hands down. “I didn’t forget the cake board. We added the pillars, we brushed the cornstarch off of the fondant, everything’s going to be fine.”  
  
“How can you say that?” Baekhyun hisses, and Chanyeol would laugh at his frenzied state except that he looks genuinely worried. “What if the critic hates it? What if the critic hates us? What if EXO gets shut down and you’ll never make it anywhere?”  
  
“How come you’re more worked up about this than I am?”  
  
Baekhyun freezes at that, face paling suspiciously and ears tipped red.  
  
“I-I just don’t want this to go badly.” he stutters out, and instantly Chanyeol feels that something is off. Baekhyun never stutters. “I don’t want it on my conscience.”  
  
Chanyeol snorts. “At this point, your conscience is in ruins.”  
  
Baekhyun cracks a weak smile at that. “Touché.”  
  
“Is everything ready?” A woman comes rushing over with a pen stuck in her hair, and Chanyeol recognizes her as the wedding planner.  
  
“All set.” he says, sending her a thumbs up, and she breaks out into a grin before checking off something on her pad of paper.  
  
“Thank god, the bride’s father was going insane.” she says, and flashes them another quick smile before she’s running off to talk to the photographer.  
  
Chanyeol heads to the bar to grab a quick drink before he and Baekhyun have to leave (hey, free drinks are always a good idea) and bumps into a man with salt and pepper hair. As in, full on crashes into him and spills his drink all over the floor.  
  
“I’m so sorry!” he says, scrambling to help the man up and make sure that the drink hadn’t spilled on his fancy looking suit.  
  
The man stands up and brushes himself off, extending a hand towards him. “Park Chanyeol. Nice to finally meet you.”  
  
Chanyeol’s eyes widen when he finds himself face to face with none other than the food critic himself, Wu Yifan.  
  
“Y-Yifan-sshi,” he stutters, doing his best to bow while shaking his hand.  
  
“I assume you’ve finished assembling the cake?” Yifan eyes the empty wine glass in his hands with slight judgement, and Chanyeol feels his throat go dry.  
  
“Yeah,” he manages to say, as he watches Yifan lean down to inspect the cake further.  
  
“Interesting.” Yifan muses, eyebrows furrowing behind his glasses. Chanyeol feels like he’s choking on air.  
  
“What kind of flowers are these?” Yifan asks, stepping closer.  
  
“Primroses,” Chanyeol squeaks out, “Because they represent eternal love.”  
  
Where is Baekhyun when you need him?  
  
“I see,” Yifan says, nodding thoughtfully.  
  
Chanyeol rocks back on his heels and waits for the final verdict. Yifan’s face looks stormy, eyebrows furrowed into thunder clouds and eyes shining like lightning.  
  
“Well,” he says, breaking out into a grin while reaching into his pocket for something, “I have to say, I’m impressed. It’s a twist on a classic. I’ll keep in touch.”  
  
He hands Chanyeol his business card, and Chanyeol nearly faints on the spot.  
  
“Th-thank you Yifan-sshi.” Chanyeol breathes out, bowing deeply.  
  
The man laughs, and it’s stunning to see how bright he can be once he’s moved past the intimidation. “Please. Just call me hyung.”  
  
“Okay, Yifan-hyung.” Chanyeol says, and Yifan waves at him one last time before disappearing into the crowd.  
  
“Holy shit,” Chanyeol whispers to himself, pulling out the business card to take a closer look. It’s embossed on fancy, creamy white cardstock, nothing like the cheap cardboard Chanyeol printed EXO business cards on. There’s gold leaf detailing at the corners, and cursive script reads out:  
  
_Wu Yifan  
Professional Culinary Critic_  
  
Baekhyun finally comes over then, holding a plateful of finger sandwiches from the menu and saying, “So, what did I miss?”  
  
  
  
The ensuing karaoke night that Jongdae insists on is always the best part of any cake order.  
  
Really, it’s not even about the cake orders anymore– Jongdae just wants an excuse to go to karaoke without looking lame.  
  
(Which never happens, but. Chanyeol figures he shouldn’t shatter that illusion.)  
  
At any rate, Chanyeol always finds himself at their local karaoke bar after almost any kind of event at Jongdae’s insistence.  
  
“So,” Jongdae begins, not bothering to look up from his phone and check if Chanyeol’s listening. He knows he’s not.  
  
“So,” Chanyeol repeats, and yelps to dodge the ensuing shoe that gets thrown.  
  
“I was thinking that we could go out for karaoke.”  
  
“Hmm,” Chanyeol says, and resumes his quest of finding the scarf he’d bought last week.  
  
At this point, it’s become kind of a tradition for Chanyeol to drag out the process like this. Jongdae knows that Chanyeol’s going to agree eventually, and Chanyeol knows that Jongdae knows this fact.  
  
“Baekhyun’s going?” Jongdae says with a hopeful smile.  
  
Chanyeol’s still crouched under his bed, head banging up with a dull thud. “That’s not news,” Chanyeol says, rubbing at the newly formed bump on his head and managing to increase the swelling. “He always goes wherever we go.”  
  
Jongdae murmurs his assent, before perking up as he realizes the full implications of Chanyeol’s words. “So we’ll go?”  
  
“Well,” Chanyeol sighs melodramatically, resting his chin in his hand. “If we really have no other option…”  
  
“Thank you!” Jongdae springs up and hugs him, planting a loud kiss on his cheek. “You’re the best.”  
  
Chanyeol rolls his eyes with a fond smile, before switching from his scarf mission to his where-does-Jongdae-keep-his-skinny-jeans mission.  
  
  
  
The karaoke bar costs them a ten thousand won cover charge per person, and Chanyeol grumbles half-heartedly as he forks the cash over.  
  
“Think of it as an investment,” Jongdae says, happily stretching out his own wad of cash towards Minseok, the bartender.  
  
“You,” he says, pointing a finger at Jongdae after they’d paid, “You only get to sing a total of three songs.”  
  
“What– That’s not– Why?” he splutters, and if Chanyeol had known beforehand he’d get to see Jongdae this rattled, he would’ve agreed to come in a heartbeat.  
  
Minseok narrows his eyes at him over the counter before turning to Chanyeol and saying, “This guy wouldn’t stop playing that fucking Pen Pineapple Apple Pen song last time. I have never seen this place empty out faster.”  
  
Chanyeol groans. “Jongdae, you promised not to do that again.”  
  
Jongdae shrugs unapologetically. “There were assholes hogging the mic.”  
  
“That’s not a valid reason to–” Chanyeol rubs at his forehead. “Whatever. I’m sorry,” he says to Minseok, who’s still glaring at Jongdae. “I’ll make sure that song doesn’t come on.”  
  
Minseok nods and slides Chanyeol a drink across the counter. “It’s on me.”  
  
“Thanks man.” Chanyeol says, and finds himself dragged into the venue by Jongdae.  
  
  
  
Baekhyun and the others are already waiting for them when they get inside.  
  
“You missed Sehun singing ‘I Got A Boy’,” Yixing says once they’ve arrived.  
  
“Good,” Chanyeol calls back, sending a mental thanks to his quick reflexes when he dodges the ensuing punch Sehun sends his way.  
  
“I’ll have you know that I did a great job, thank you very much,” Sehun huffs out before running off to see if he can convince Kyungsoo to buy him a drink.  
  
“I think the only one who enjoyed it was Luhan,” Yixing whispers to him when Sehun’s out of earshot, and Chanyeol stifles a laugh.  
  
“Hey.” Baekhyun comes over then, and Yixing takes that as his cue to leave.  
  
“Hey yourself,” Chanyeol says, stealing the drink out of Baekhyun’s hand.  
  
After a quick struggle (or, Baekhyun attempting to get his drink back while Chanyeol holds it above his head), Baekhyun backs down and settles for glaring at him. “Rude.”  
  
Chanyeol shrugs. “Drunk you is _not_ fun to deal with.”  
  
Baekhyun rolls his eyes and tries to head back to the bar for another one, but Chanyeol grabs his arm before he can get very far.  
  
“We both know I’m going to get drunk somehow by the end of this night,” Baekhyun says, “You might as well let me get a headstart.”  
  
“I had something I wanted to say to you while you were still sober.” Chanyeol steels himself in preparation.  
  
“Well?” Baekhyun raises an eyebrow, glancing at the clock pointedly. “I don’t have all day.”  
  
“You’re such an asshole,” Chanyeol groans, and Baekhyun laughs at him.  
  
“The one and only.” Baekhyun winks.  
  
Chanyeol feels himself physically gag at the remark, which in turn causes Baekhyun to laugh.  
  
“I wanted to thank you for, you know.” Chanyeol clears his throat. “What you did with the cake today. If there’s anything I can do–”  
  
Baekhyun waves him off, cheeks glowing bright red despite the darkness. “It was nothing, Chanyeol, don’t worry about it. After all, that’s what friends are for, right?”  
  
_Friends._  
  
Something feels off in the way Baekhyun says that, the way his voice cracks a little on that word. Emotion flits across his face for a fleeting moment, and Chanyeol files the look on Baekhyun’s face into the back of his mind for future sleepless nights.  
  
“Sure,” he says hesitantly, and feels Baekhyun smile brightly at him.  
  
“Tell you what, I know how you can make it up to me.”  
  
Chanyeol frowns when he notes the sparkle in Baekhyun’s eye that’s all too familiar from his friendship with Jongdae. “I’m not buying you a drink.”  
  
Baekhyun laughs. “No silly, I can buy myself a drink anyday. I want you to sing with me.”  
  
Chanyeol balks at that, feeling his throat go dry. “Me? And singing?”  
  
“Yep,” Baekhyun nods. “I’ve heard you in the shower when you think you’re alone.”  
  
“That was one time,” Chanyeol hisses, feeling slightly scandalized.  
  
“Wonder Girls has never sounded sweeter,” Baekhyun says, shutting his eyes and leaning back as if to picture that moment.  
  
“Shut _up_ ,” Chanyeol groans, shoving Baekhyun towards the wall and laughing at the sound that follows.  
  
  
  
For all the shit Chanyeol gives Jongdae about his obsession with karaoke, he does have to admit that he enjoys karaoke nights.  
  
He watches Baekhyun do a rendition of EXID’s “Up and Down”, complete with terrifyingly coordinated dance moves.  
  
Chanyeol feels strangely violated.  
  
Everyone sings. Yixing, Luhan, Kyungsoo, Sehun, and Jongdae too (although Minseok watches him suspiciously throughout the entirety of SHINee’s “Ring Ding Dong”.)  
  
Eventually though, Jongdae’s pushing him towards the stage with a promise to record every single moment, and even cute, innocent Yixing is watching him with curiosity.  
  
“I’m not singing,” he says, crossing his arms.  
  
Baekhyun shrugs. “You play guitar, right?”  
  
Chanyeol’s a little startled by the abrupt change in topic, but goes along with it. “Yeah,” he says hesitantly, “How’d you know?”  
  
Baekhyun rolls his eyes. “There’s a guitar back at the apartment. In your room. With a Rilakkuma sticker on it.”  
  
“It could’ve been Jongdae’s,” Chanyeol protests, but the look Baekhyun sends him is enough to make him stop trying.  
  
“I’ll sing, you play?” Baekhyun asks, glancing at Chanyeol to gauge his reaction.  
  
The way Baekhyun’s looking at him makes him nervous. Something tells him that the song isn’t just going to be a song– no. Knowing Baekhyun, it’s going to be something important, and the adrenaline surges through him in a wave.  
  
“Sure,” Chanyeol says, accepting the guitar Baekhyun holds out to him.  
  
“Okay.” Baekhyun takes a deep breath, grabs the mic, and starts climbing the stairs.  
  
  
  
Everything looks different when you’re actually on stage.  
  
The lights are hot and searing, the room looks massive, and there’s a moment where you stop and pause just to take it all in.  
  
Chanyeol grips the neck of the guitar tightly with one hand while he holds onto the stool with the other, watching Baekhyun settle in beside him.  
  
He can barely make out the shadowy form of Jongdae’s phone, no doubt recording ever since Chanyeol had approached the stage.  
  
The music’s been set up on a stand in front of him. It doesn’t look too bad. Nothing he can’t play.  
  
Baekhyun flashes the crowd a smile. “I’m Baekhyun, this is Chanyeol, and we’re going to be performing ‘Love Song’ by Bumkey and Rhythmking.”  
  
Jongdae hollers obnoxiously, to Chanyeol’s utter mortification, and he thinks that this is what Sehun must’ve felt like all those months ago.  
  
He’s not really paying attention to anything other than the sheet music when they first start, fingers scrambling to change chords in time to the beat.  
  
Baekhyun’s voice flows out into the room, the same kind of airy, light resonance that Chanyeol hears all the time at the dining room table. His voice seemed a little shaky at first, wavering slightly before gaining momentum as the song went on.  
  
Which is strange, because Baekhyun has no qualms about doing anything, and much less when that something is singing.  
  
He sneaks a peek at Baekhyun to his right and sees him closing his eyes, swaying with the music.  
  
As he grows used to the chord changes and progressions, he glances out into the crowd every now and then. He sees people swaying along, much like Baekhyun, and even some who are mouthing the lyrics.  
  
Jongdae’s phone is the most prominent though, and Chanyeol makes sure to look directly at his camera.  
  
Only, Jongdae seems to be preoccupied with something else.  
  
Chanyeol squints against the lights, trying to make out what Jongdae’s mouthing to him.  
  
_Listen who the long?_  
  
Chanyeol leans closer.  
  
_Listen to the song._  
  
So he does.  
  
They’re in the middle of an instrumental section, which gives Chanyeol enough time to skim through the lyrics.  
  
_I’ll keep you safe, don’t you worry  
I wouldn’t leave, wanna keep you near  
Cause I feel the same way too  
Love you, Love you  
Want you to know that I’m with you_  
  
Holy shit.  
  
He feels himself slip a fret, and pauses to adjust, sending Baekhyun an apologetic smile.  
  
He didn’t know Baekhyun had chosen _this_ song.  
  
He looks for Jongdae in the audience, very tempted to mouth, _What the fuck?_ to him, but holds himself back when he realizes that he’s still on stage.  
  
All Jongdae does is nod knowingly and send him a thumbs up, as if that makes any sense.  
  
He turns his attention back to the music, doing his best to ignore Baekhyun’s voice singing suspiciously familiar words.  
  
He feels nauseous.  
  
He barely registers that the song has ended, too busy staring bewilderedly at Baekhyun to notice the standing ovation.  
  
“See, that wasn’t so bad, right?” Baekhyun says, nudging Chanyeol with his shoulder but refusing to make eye contact with him.  
  
“I-I need to go,” Chanyeol blurts out, and Baekhyun stops walking to turn back and face him  
  
“Um. Okay?” he says, tilting his head ~~adorably~~. “I’ll see you later tonight then!”  
  
“Ye-Yeah,” Chanyeol stammers, and rushes for the door as fast as he can.  
  
  
  
Chanyeol doesn’t trust himself to drive back, and plus, Jongdae’s got the keys. So he hails a taxi instead and rests his head against the window.  
  
What is going on?  
  
He still doesn’t know what to make of Baekhyun’s song choice. It was a nice song, soft and slow, and Baekhyun’s voice had been lovely as always. It’s a classic love song (literally, the song was called “Love Song”), so there shouldn’t be any alarm bells ringing in Chanyeol’s head.  
  
Except that there are, because Baekhyun had been so, so nervous? Baekhyun is never nervous. Baekhyun doesn’t stutter, doesn’t second-guess himself, doesn’t have any issues with singing in front of crowds. In all of the time that Chanyeol has known him, his voice has never wavered. Baekhyun takes a lot of pride in his voice, and understandably so. Yet just ten minutes ago, Baekhyun had barely been able to step onto that stage. He’d forced the first note out, sounding so frail and fragile that Chanyeol had been worried that he wouldn’t be able to keep going.  
  
Did he do something?  
  
He doesn’t want to make Baekhyun uncomfortable– they’d finally established the fact that they were friends, after dancing around it for so long. He hadn’t realized it, but Sehun had been right that day at the bakery. (Which rarely happens.)  
  
Chanyeol really doesn’t yell at Baekhyun for his obnoxious taste in music and horrible, horrible dancing. Although now that he thinks about it, Baekhyun’s dancing had never been _horrible_ , per say. Shockingly accurate? Yes. But horrible? Not really.  
  
Baekhyun doesn’t tear into him whenever he burns the meat again, or whenever he tries to slice a tomato and ends up slicing his finger instead. Actually, Baekhyun had seemed worried every time that’d happened, making sure to wrap a band-aid around it and fussing over him until Chanyeol insisted that he was fine.  
  
In fact, if he really thinks about it, he and Baekhyun have been getting along pretty well for a while now.  
  
When did that start happening?  
  
_After all, that’s what friends are for, right?_  
  
He replays that moment in his head, rewinding it over and over again. Baekhyun’s face had looked so strange, so different from how Chanyeol normally knows him. He’d seemed– vulnerable. Honest.  
  
There’d been a tremor in his bottom lip, Chanyeol recalls now, and his eyes had drooped downwards despite the nonchalance he’d tried to force.  
  
_Friends._  
  
Is that really what they are?  
  
Chanyeol thinks back to the moment he’d first met Baekhyun, back when Jongdae had entered EXO in September, laughing with a copper-haired stranger trailing in tow.  
  
(“This is Baekhyun. He literally has the word ‘bake’ in his name, so of course he’s good at it.”)  
  
He fast forwards to the first day Baekhyun had actually started working, skipping past the night he’d spent flipping through Baekhyun’s resumé and laughing as he stumbled upon “used to be able to do the worm, kind of” listed under the special skills column.  
  
He remembers tossing Baekhyun an old uniform he’d dug out of the closet, Baekhyun looking so small, practically being swallowed up by the cloth. He remembers first watching him chat someone up, Baekhyun managing to laugh at all the right moments and nod attentively at others. He remembers thinking how pretty his laugh was.  
  
He remembers Baekhyun hugging the Rilakkuma blanket tightly to himself, even in his sleep, and how desperately he’d wanted to hug him in that moment. He remembers watching Baekhyun stumble, bleary-eyed, to the bathroom with his bed head all over the place. He remembers Baekhyun standing in front of their stove, flipping pancakes with a flick of his wrist, drizzling designs into the batter whenever Chanyeol requested him to. He remembers Baekhyun driving him back after that fateful phone call, never once asking Chanyeol for details, had never once thought that Chanyeol not going to university with the rest of them was weird.  
  
He remembers the day of the wedding cake order, how overwhelmed and terrified he’d felt, and how Baekhyun had spent hours on the phone calling different people and talking them into ditching their previous commitments to spend time baking a cake that wasn’t even for them, just so Chanyeol would smile again.  
  
He remembers a lot of things.  
  
A lot of thoughts.  
  
Oh.  
  
_Oh._  
  
Chanyeol feels his stomach drop as the knowledge comes crashing into him like a wave, throwing him off balance and making sure he stays that way.  
  
Oh god, how could he have missed it?  
  
He feels light-headed. The car seems to be going in circles, driving around and around and around. Chanyeol groans, and lets himself fall backwards onto the headrest.  
  
“Is everything okay back there?” The taxi driver asks, and Chanyeol feels himself laughing bitterly.  
  
“No,” he chokes out, “Nothing is okay.”  
  
  
  
The first thing he does when he gets back is fall into a heap on top of the couch.  
  
He hasn’t done that in months, ever since Baekhyun first moved in.  
  
Baekhyun.  
  
What is he going to say to him when he comes back?  
  
(“Hey, I just realized that I may or may not be in love with you, please love me back?”)  
  
Chanyeol rolls over with a groan, faceplanting into the pillow Baekhyun uses. It even smells like him, the mix of flour and vanilla and something so uniquely _Baekhyun_ that Chanyeol’s come to associate him with.  
  
He’s gotten attached to him.  
  
He’s grown used to having Baekhyun around, used to being so fucking fond of him, that now Chanyeol can’t even imagine what his life was like before Baekhyun had forcefully inserted himself into it.  
  
It terrifies him, this sense of complete and total dependence on someone other than himself. What if Baekhyun decides to disappear one day? What if he just got up and left, never mind Chanyeol?  
  
He doesn’t know if he’d be able to survive that.  
  
He’d barely made it out alive in his struggle with his parents, and it still hurts to this day, _god_ it fucking hurts.  
  
He can’t count the number of nights he’s spent, tossing and turning as he wonders how his Dad and his Mom and his older sister are doing now that he’s gone.  
  
He would’ve been a sophomore if he’d gone to university, so Yoora should’ve graduated last year. She might have a job now, maybe even a boyfriend. Or a girlfriend, Chanyeol doesn’t know anymore.  
  
God. He’d missed his own sister’s graduation.  
  
He feels a sob rip its way out of his chest and echo in the emptiness of the apartment.  
  
How had he managed to isolate himself from his family this much? How had he managed to go from being the life of the party to being terrified of establishing relationships with anyone that go beyond mere acquaintances?  
  
And he doesn’t know how Baekhyun feels about all of this– would he be devastated if Chanyeol suddenly disappeared too? Or would he move on within a week?  
  
The sound of a key turning in the lock causes him to freeze.  
  
He can’t imagine how he looks right now, red rimmed eyes and tears dripping wet spots onto his shirt.  
  
“Hey,” Jongdae says quietly, dropping the keys onto the table and kicking his shoes off.  
  
Chanyeol makes a noise somewhere between a strangled yelp and a whimper, and feels Jongdae wrapping him up into a hug.  
  
“I know,” he says, hugging Chanyeol tightly as if he were a child again, “I know.”  
  
They stay that way for a while, enveloped by the darkness cast all about them and the orange glow of the streetlights.  
  
“Baekhyun’s not coming back here for a while,” Jongdae says after a moment, “I told him that you needed some space.”  
  
“Thank you,” Chanyeol whispers, and Jongdae responds by draping the Rilakkuma blanket over him.  
  
It smells like Baekhyun.  
  
  
  
He’s stopped going to EXO during the weekdays.  
  
He’d gotten Jongdae to pass along the message to Sehun and Baekhyun, promising them a pay raise if they’d cover for him.  
  
Sehun calls him multiple times, and even takes the time to send him a couple of text messages too, complete with frowny emojis. Which is extremely unlike Sehun, because Chanyeol’s pretty sure that Sehun once asked him how to connect to the wifi.  
  
Baekhyun doesn’t appear in any of his notifications.  
  
He calls Sehun back, rolls his eyes when he realizes that the kid hasn’t set up his voicemail yet, and texts Jongdae to tell Sehun that he’s fine and doing okay, he just needs a bit of time.  
  
  
  
The worst part of it all is that Baekhyun has managed to leave small traces of himself everywhere.  
  
Chanyeol can’t look at their new and improved stove setup without feeling his throat getting tight, much less actually use it to cook something.  
  
These days, Chanyeol’s been prone to eating whatever Jongdae brings back from takeout orders and the contents of their fridge, which include Baekhyun’s favorite brand of milk and the occasional apple.  
  
Needless to say, Chanyeol doesn’t drink the milk.  
  
He keeps the Rilakkuma blanket tucked next to his pillow, and notes with a sad kind of fondness that his favorite hoodie and two of his beanies are missing.  
  
He wonders how Baekhyun is doing.  
  
  
  
“This assignment is a bitch,” Jongdae moans loudly as he shoves Fruit Loops into his mouth.  
  
Chanyeol rolls his eyes and takes a bite of his far superior cereal choice.  
  
“Me and Baekhyun– oops.” Jongdae sneaks a glance at Chanyeol’s expression, determining whether it’s safe to continue talking or not.  
  
Chanyeol nods. “Go on?”  
  
“So as I was saying, me and He Who Shall Not Be Named–”  
  
“You can cut the nicknames, Jongdae,” Chanyeol says, grinning in spite of himself.  
  
“We’ve been trying to figure out what the hell we’re going to write, because this is a songwriting assignment? Like, we’re vocal performance majors, not songwriting ones. I don’t know how we’re going to do this, because the professor already hates us. She probably has custom-made voodoo dolls of us and stabs them when she needs stress relief.”  
  
“Speaking of Baekhyun,” Chanyeol starts, and sees Jongdae glance sharply at him.  
  
“Relax,” Chanyeol says, “I’m not that sensitive.”  
  
The eyebrow that Jongdae raises in response tells Chanyeol that he doesn’t believe him one bit.  
  
“Anyway,” Chanyeol continues, “How is he? Where is he living if he’s still looking for a roommate?”  
  
Jongdae chokes on his mouthful of Fruit Loops.  
  
Chanyeol scrambles to pat him a couple of times on the back, watching Jongdae gulp lungfuls of air.  
  
“Y-You don’t know?”  
  
Chanyeol frowns. “No. What am I supposed to know?”  
  
Jongdae takes a sip of water, before swallowing and saying, “Baekhyun found a roommate ages ago. Kyungsoo– do you remember him? That’s his roommate. They’ve been rooming together since December.”  
  
Chanyeol’s eyes go wide as he digests the new information. “So why did he hang out here all the time?”  
  
“Because of you, you dumbass.”  
  
Chanyeol feels his whole world shatter to pieces.  
  
For months– _almost half a year_ – Baekhyun has been eating and sleeping and doing homework at the Chenyeol apartment, and yet he had his own place all along? He’d been paying for student housing on campus and he wasn’t even using it?  
  
“He really does care about you, you know. Couldn’t you tell by the song?”  
  
“I-I need to go find him,” Chanyeol stutters out, before scrambling for his coat and shoving his shoes on the wrong feet in his haste.  
  
“Hell yeah!” Jongdae calls, “Go get your man!”  
  
Chanyeol flinches and shoots Jongdae his best death glare. “Why did I ever decide to room with you.”  
  
Jongdae winks at him with a scary similarity to Baekhyun. “I’m irresistible.”  
  
“Sure,” Chanyeol deadpans, too preoccupied to come up with a better retort.  
  
He needs to find Baekhyun.  
  
  
  
The university campus looks very, very different than the last time he’d been there.  
  
He’d gone with Jongdae to his orientation as support, back when Jongdae dragged him along to everything he had to do. Although honestly, that hasn’t really changed.  
  
The campus had been green then, with trees and grass shooting up from the ground, flowers bursting into bloom. Stately white buildings surrounded him on all sides, and in every direction he’d looked, Chanyeol had seen people.  
  
Now, after Chanyeol goes through the whole signing in process that always ends with the lady at the front desk remembering him at the last moment, he realizes that the campus is still covered in snow piles, despite the fact that it’s now April. Which reminds him, Sehun’s birthday is coming up soon, and he’s still at a loss as for what to get him.  
  
He glances down at his phone to read Jongdae’s incoming text, which tells him Baekhyun’s room number, and makes his way over to the door.  
  
“So, I’m walking down the hallway and all of a sudden that girl from music theory– you know the one, right Soo? She comes barreling into me at full speed and spills her coffee all over me. I had a meeting with Professor Kim in ten minutes! And you know that that woman hates me enough as it is, so–”  
  
Chanyeol knocks once, and the door swings open to reveal Kyungsoo scribbling on sheet music. Baekhyun’s got his back turned, so he hasn’t realized that Chanyeol’s here yet.  
  
“Jongdae, I swear to god–”  
  
“Hi,” he says, and physically feels the wind coming off of Baekhyun when he whips around to face him.  
  
Kyungsoo grabs his pencils and leaves, sending the both of them a smile before shutting the door behind him.  
  
“Hi,” Baekhyun says, and Chanyeol takes that as an invitation to sit down on the bed opposite him.  
  
There’s a long pause.  
  
“Listen, I’m really sorry that–”  
  
“I was going to tell you soon but–”  
  
Another pause.  
  
“You can go first,” Chanyeol says, watching Baekhyun take a deep breath.  
  
“I’m really sorry for that night at karaoke.” He’s clasping his hands between his legs. “I wouldn’t have forced you to sing with me if I’d known you’d react like that, I don’t want to hurt you or anything–”  
  
Chanyeol holds up his hand, and Baekhyun’s words die abruptly in his mouth.  
  
“No, no it’s my fault, my reaction didn’t have anything to do with karaoke,” Chanyeol says, “You didn’t do anything at all.”  
  
Baekhyun’s still doing that thing where he tilts his head to the side in confusion, and Chanyeol suppresses the little _awww_ that’s threatening to burst from his mouth.  
  
“Have you ever wondered why I don’t go to university with you guys?”  
  
Baekhyun’s a little thrown by the shift in subject, Chanyeol can tell, but seems to go along with it. It’s a little frightening how much they’ve changed in such a short amount of time: there’s no longer jokes flying back and forth between the two of them, light-hearted teasing that neither of them actually believe.  
  
“Well,” Baekhyun starts, “I asked Jongdae about it once, but he just said that it was a personal decision.”  
  
“That’s– that’s technically correct. It wasn’t like I didn’t want to, because I really did, but I couldn’t. My Dad’s the CEO of some company. It’s not Google or anything, but it’s still a CEO position. It was enough for us to be above average, wealth wise.” Chanyeol inhales. “They never liked the idea of me baking. They thought that it was unconventional, not stable, the polar opposite of the life they’d crafted for me, which was to follow in my Dad’s footsteps and take over the company.”  
  
He shifts positions on the bed. “I didn’t argue with them at first, I loved my parents– still do. I was never able to handle sleepovers. I usually broke down crying the moment it was actually time to get into bed, and the poor parents would have to call my parents and make them come get me at midnight.” Chanyeol smiles when he remembers the fuss he used to make. “I took all the advanced math and finance courses my high school had to offer, dropped home economics and music to make it all fit into my schedule. But then they told me that they’d already arranged for my admissions to a school specializing entirely in business. They’d bought me a private apartment in the finance district.”  
  
Chanyeol laughs and shakes his head. “That was the first time I didn’t listen to them.”  
  
“What did you do?” Baekhyun says, leaning closer unconsciously.  
  
“I left. I had no money, no job, no nothing, just a high school diploma and a love of baking. Which sounds like the perfect start to an indie film, but it was a whole lot shittier than that.” Chanyeol crosses his legs on the bed and continues. “I had stumbled across a listing online from someone looking for a roommate, and the rent was cheap, so I took it,”  
  
“Jongdae?” Baekhyun asks, and Chanyeol nods.  
  
“Jongdae. I worked any odd job that I could find for the next couple of months, always waking up at the crack of dawn and getting back in time for a couple hours of sleep before I had to get up again. I’d been telling Jongdae a little bit about what I would do if I didn’t have to work all these odd jobs. He’d known that I was passionate about baking– it was one of the first things I’d told him.” Chanyeol clears his throat. “He’d responded by saying, ‘Well, why don’t you open one?’ and I’d kind of thought, well yeah, why shouldn’t I open one?”  
  
Baekhyun nods and bounces a little in his spot. “So you opened EXO?”  
  
“Yeah,” Chanyeol says, “I’d had enough set aside for a down payment, so we went lease hunting and found a place near the university. The first few months of any small business are rough, so I wasn’t expecting much to happen. I figured I’d have to shut down within a half a year. But one day, a professional food critic had walked through the door and tried my lemon almond cake, and the rest was history.” Chanyeol coughs into his hand. “Everything seemed to be going well. I got enough customers to be able to pay the bills, and I was enjoying myself a lot more than I’d expected to.”  
  
“But?” Baekhyun says, and Chanyeol grimaces.  
  
“Then my parents dropped by to see how I was doing. I guess they’d come to gloat about what a shit position I was in, but I didn’t care. I was happy, for the first time in a long time. I didn’t want to face them. I hadn’t told Jongdae anything about my parents, because I was scared that he’d resent me for it. I was the one that physically left the house, but with every day that goes by, it still feels like it was the other way around.” Chanyeol swallows tightly.  
  
“The irony is that, in a way, I did get into business, because I’m the manager of EXO.” Chanyeol forces out a dry laugh. “Seems like whatever I’m doing, I’m still obeying them.”  
  
Baekhyun looks like he wants to say something, but then forces it down and nods for Chanyeol to continue.  
  
“I told him everything, and he hid me in his room when my parents visited. Those few hours were horrible.” Chanyeol shudders as he recalls the memory. “I wanted so badly to open the door and run back to them, to let them control everything, but I didn’t. I huddled inside the room, trying to fall asleep to the sounds of the cars driving past in the streets below.” Chanyeol cracks a weak smile. “They left sometime after the sun had gone down. Jongdae told me later that it was my Mom’s idea to show up, which makes sense. She was always the less enthusiastic one when it came to business. They’d shown up in an attempt to change my mind, said it’d only be a matter of time before I cracked.  
  
“In a way, they were right, because I cracked that night at the karaoke bar.”  
  
Baekhyun looks like he’s about to protest, but decides against it.  
  
“I didn’t know what to do, I was terrified of what the song meant– that I’d potentially gone and gotten myself attached to someone who has no guarantee of staying around, who could disappear on me one day like my parents and–”  
  
“I’m not going to disappear.” Baekhyun interrupts, and Chanyeol feels his pulse race.  
  
“Yeah, but how do you know?” he cries, “My parents weren’t supposed to disappear either, but they did, and look where I am now!”  
  
“That’s where you have to take chances,” Baekhyun says quietly. “You’re not the only one with unsupportive parents, you know. For the longest time, they thought that I’d suit being a lawyer. Or a doctor. Or anything, it seemed, besides a singer. They’re supportive now, sure, but it was a struggle to convince them. My situation definitely isn’t as extreme as yours, but yeah. We have a few similarities.”  
  
Baekhyun shrugs. “I’m not asking you to commit to anything, or trying to force you into something you don’t want, but the song was supposed to be my way of confessing.” Baekhyun laughs, the memory feeling all too distant a week later. “I’d worked everything out with Jongdae beforehand. I hadn’t realized you’d panic.”  
  
Chanyeol feels his breath stutter to a halt.  
  
“You mean?”  
  
“Yeah,” Baekhyun nods, smiling a little, “I don’t know how you didn’t notice, but I’m a little bit in love with you.”  
  
“Oh,” Chanyeol breathes out, hardly daring to believe it.  
  
“Oh,” Baekhyun mocks, and Chanyeol feels himself smile.  
  
_This_ is how it should be, with Baekhyun throwing out another lame insult and Chanyeol volleying one right back to him. There’s a sense of belonging, of coming home after a long day and seeing Baekhyun already sprawled out onto the couch, of stumbling into the kitchen and finding his favorite breakfast pre-prepared, with a little post-it note wishing him a good morning.  
  
“Well?” Baekhyun says, crossing his arms. “Are you going to make me do all the work?”  
  
Chanyeol doesn’t need any more prompting to bridge the gap between them, to bend down and tilt Baekhyun’s face upwards to meet his, lips joining together in the middle.  
  
It’s soft, slow, and absolutely, stunningly perfect.  
  
Baekhyun cups a hand around the back of Chanyeol’s neck and pulls him in closer, tasting a little like the vanilla buttercream frosting that he liked to sneak tastes of when he thinks Chanyeol isn’t looking.  
  
He threads his fingers through Baekhyun’s hair, brushing his hand against his ear and nipping at his bottom lip.  
  
“Fuck,” Baekhyun hisses out, pulling away slightly to breathe. “We should’ve done this earlier.”  
  
“We should’ve,” Chanyeol agrees, and leans in again for a second go.  
  
There’s more _want_ this time round, spilling up from inside him and manifesting in the way he grips Baekhyun’s hair, the way he tilts his head to the side to mark the exposed stretch of skin.  
  
“I’m a little bit in love with you, too,” Chanyeol whispers against Baekhyun’s jaw, and feels him grinning against his cheek.  
  
“Good,” Baekhyun whispers back, and Chanyeol doesn’t have the words for how content he is right now, how utterly and entirely and wholly _happy_ he feels.  
  
  
  
Nothing has really changed, if Chanyeol’s being honest.  
  
Everything seems to be the same– Baekhyun still teases him for not being able to flip pancakes correctly, still steals his clothes and sleeps with the Rilakkuma blanket, still works at EXO with him and sings girl group songs.  
  
Only, now there’s a lot more kissing involved. Baekhyun claims that he now has “boyfriend rights” whenever Chanyeol catches him swaddled in one of his old hoodies, or suggests that they go out for lunch dates on the weekends. They share the bed in Chanyeol’s room now, Baekhyun tucking himself underneath Chanyeol’s arm and stealing all the covers in the middle of the night.  
  
They’re sharing the blanket on the couch, Baekhyun working his way through vocal exercises while Chanyeol scrolls through social media.  
  
“Wait, when did realize you liked me?” He asks, stumbling upon a link to “List of Questions to Ask Your S.O.”  
  
Baekhyun stops harmonizing and thinks. “Hmm, maybe ever since you tucked the blanket over me back when I first moved in?”  
  
Chanyeol feels his mouth drop open. “You were awake during all of that?”  
  
“Well, yeah,” Baekhyun shrugs. “You’re not very subtle.”  
  
“What the fuck?” Chanyeol says, feeling strangely betrayed.  
  
Baekhyun rolls his eyes fondly. “When did you start liking me?”  
  
Chanyeol closes his mouth and pauses. “Probably when you started teaching me how to cook?”  
  
“Oh I remember that!” Baekhyun exclaims happily, “You turned all red and refused to look at anything besides your chopsticks. It was adorable.”  
  
“What– That’s not– Who said anything about–” Chanyeol splutters, and Baekhyun laughs beside him.  
  
He’s in the middle of regaling Chanyeol with another tale of how red Chanyeol’s ears had gotten that time Baekhyun had challenged himself to see how many innuendos he could fit in one conversation when the phone rings. He presses a finger to Baekhyun’s lips to silence him, and watches in amusement as Baekhyun goes cross-eyed.  
  
“Hello?”  
  
“Chanyeol?”  
  
Chanyeol pauses. “Yifan-hyung?”  
  
Baekhyun glances at him when the name comes up.  
  
“I’m calling to let you know that there’s an open position as a competitor on _Showtime!_ Would you like me to recommend you?”  
  
“I-uh,” Chanyeol stutters, feeling his breath catch in his throat.  
  
_Showtime!_ is probably Korea’s most well-known baking show, mainly due to the fact that it was one of Korea’s only baking specific shows. The format is similar to the Great British Bake Off, in that there’s a new theme every episode, with roughly one or two people eliminated each time.  
  
“You don’t have to give me a definitive answer now, of course,” Yifan’s saying, “You have roughly a month to think about it. And you have my number for when you do decide.”  
  
“Thank you,” Chanyeol manages, and hears the line go dead on the other side.  
  
“What’s up?” Baekhyun asks.  
  
“Yifan-hyung just offered me a spot on _Showtime!_ ” Chanyeol rushes out, and feels Baekhyun jump up beside him.  
  
“That’s great!” Baekhyun says, leaning up to hug him, except that something doesn’t feel right. After all these months, Chanyeol thinks he has a pretty good read on Baekhyun’s emotions, and knows for a fact that something’s off when Baekhyun’s smile doesn’t quite reach his eyes.  
  
He raises an eyebrow at Baekhyun, waiting for him to explain, and Baekhyun sighs.  
  
“I’m happy for you and everything, I really am, but don’t you feel it’s a little fast?”  
  
Chanyeol frowns at him. “What do you mean?”  
  
“Like,” Baekhyun gesticulates wildly for a moment. “You’ve barely turned twenty. You’re still so _young_ , and knowing you, this isn’t going to be your only chance for success.” Baekhyun fiddles with a strand of his hair. “Haven’t you ever wondered what it’d be like to go to university for a moment, or do something else besides baking?”  
  
Chanyeol scowls. “My entire life has been baking, I don’t know what you mean–”  
  
“Yes you do,” Baekhyun hurriedly explains, “There’s things you do to make yourself happy, and then there’s things you do because you need them to see another day. That’s singing for me. And I get that that’s baking for you, but that night when you talked about your parents, well.” Baekhyun smiles softly at him. “You still want them in your life, whether you know it or not.”  
  
Chanyeol breathes shakily.  
  
“Talk to them,” Baekhyun says, “Ask them what they think of the offer.”  
  
“I already know what they’ll say,” Chanyeol grimaces. “They’ll tell me how proud they are of me, and then ask how much I make in a month.”  
  
Baekhyun shrugs. “Maybe they’ll surprise you.”  
  
“I doubt it,” Chanyeol says warily, and Baekhyun grins at him.  
  
“You’ll never know if you don’t try,” he sing-songs, and Chanyeol chooses that moment to whack him over the head with a couch cushion.  
  
(Of course, it eventually dissolves into a full on pillow fight, and of course, it’s Jongdae who cleans up everything at the end with a sigh, muttering that they should really get their own apartment.)  
  
  
  
Chanyeol doesn’t really think of Baekhyun’s words again until Sehun’s birthday.  
  
He loves birthdays, loves that there’s a day specifically dedicated to each and every person. It’s a cute concept, he thinks, and even Baekhyun’s proclamation that unless you were born on February 29th, you share your birthday with roughly nineteen million people in the world can’t deter his enthusiasm.  
  
He’d received the high school superlative of “Good With Gift-Giving”. You can’t get much more celebratory than that.  
  
The problem is, for the first time in almost forever, Chanyeol has no idea what to get Sehun for his birthday.  
  
He’d asked multiple people what they’d thought, but aside from a pay raise (Jongdae) or a really good book (Kyungsoo) or even a picture of himself (Baekhyun), Chanyeol’s still clueless.  
  
It was only when he had bumped into Jongin after delivering Baekhyun’s coat to him (he’d forgotten it in his rush to get to his classes on time, that nerd) that he finally gets an idea.  
  
“A present for Sehun?”  
  
Chanyeol nodded, shifting from side to side in the narrow hallway. Jongin had told him that he’d just finished up a ballet class, hence the tights and black ballet slippers. He figured that if even Jongin, Sehun’s roommate, can’t come up with anything, Chanyeol might as well just offer to bake a cake for him, however lame that may be.  
  
“Well, he visited me over break this year, and really liked spending time with the dogs?” Jongin shrugged. “I realize that that’s a bit over the top, and we’re technically not allowed to keep pets in the dorms anyway, but he’d definitely appreciate a dog.”  
  
A dog? Chanyeol hadn’t even considered it.  
  
“No, that’s great, thank you so much!” He grinned and waved at Jongin, who presumably headed back to his room to change out of that uncomfortably looking skin tight shirt.  
  
That had been a couple of days ago, and now Chanyeol’s currently on his way to a local animal shelter, riding shotgun in Baekhyun’s car.  
  
“For the last time, I am _not_ letting you control the aux cord,” Chanyeol says, reaching over to pluck the cable out of Baekhyun’s hand. “Focus on the road, for fuck’s sake.”  
  
Baekhyun rolls his eyes half-heartedly. “We haven’t crashed yet. We’ll be fine.”  
  
“Yet.” Chanyeol stresses, and scrolls through his music library in search of a better song. He’s just about to hit play when Baekhyun shifts the gear into park.  
  
“You’re too slow,” he snickers, leaping out the door before Chanyeol’s punch can reach him.  
  
  
  
The animal shelter is gratefully empty for a Saturday morning, and Chanyeol doesn’t have to share the animals with noisy toddlers.  
  
“You do realize that we’re here for Sehun, right?”  
  
Baekhyun’s busy filling out paperwork, which leaves Chanyeol with the job of learning every single name of every single animal.  
  
“But they’re all so cute! Are you sure we can’t just adopt one of them? Or maybe all of them?”  
  
“No,” Baekhyun sighs, “I don’t even know how you managed to talk your landlord into letting the dog stay at your place for a couple of days before we turn it over to Sehun. He’d definitely flip out if you suddenly brought the whole shelter home.”  
  
“Usually we find homes for these guys within a few weeks,” the employee says, sending a kind smile to Chanyeol. “Have you chosen who you’d like to adopt?”  
  
“Yes,” Chanyeol says, at the same time Baekhyun says “No.”  
  
“Vivi,” Chanyeol points over to a small white dog in the corner of the room. “I tried to call him over and he refused. He’s exactly like Sehun.”  
  
Baekhyun grins. “Well, you can’t argue with that logic.”  
  
The employee smiles too, albeit slightly confused, and pulls out the multiple adoption forms for Baekhyun to go through.  
  
  
  
Sehun’s parents, the kind souls that they are, always invite everyone over for dinner before releasing them to the club. They know that no one wants to sit around and drink tea with their friend’s parents, and even less so when it’s a Friday night.  
  
The cake that night is a joint effort from all of them, much like the wedding cake, and seeing Sehun’s face when he notices all the little details they’ve added, like the small frosting drawings of bubble tea and a pose by pose recreation of his dance solo makes all the effort worth it.  
  
The best part of the night though, is probably when they release Vivi from Sehun’s parents bedroom (where he’s been hiding all night) and into Sehun’s waiting arms.  
  
“A dog?” he says in disbelief, and Chanyeol thinks he lets out a quiet squeal when Vivi nudges his head towards Sehun.  
  
For once, Sehun doesn’t complain when his parents fuss around with the video camera, making sure to snap pictures from every angle possible. Sehun may whine about them constantly, may argue that they won’t stop trying to interfere with his life, but he doesn’t mean half of what he says. His parents had been louder than they were that night at the dance showcase, which is saying something. Jongdae probably could have been heard all the way to Japan if he really tried.  
  
Chanyeol wishes he had Sehun’s problem.  
  
He thinks back to Baekhyun’s words from a week ago, how hopeful and earnest he’d sounded. Chanyeol had been quick to dismiss them, but later Baekhyun had let him know just to what extent his parents had gone to prevent him from singing.  
  
(“I think at one point they’d even discussed faking a doctor’s note about me being mute: of course, they were joking and didn’t actually mean it, but it was still crazy to think about.”)  
  
Baekhyun’s story had ended well though: he’d managed to convince his parents that his passion was more important than convention, and now he’s happily enrolled as a vocal performance major.  
  
Maybe Chanyeol can get that ending too.  
  
“Hello? Earth to Chanyeol?” Jongdae’s busy waving his hand in front of Chanyeol’s face. “We’re leaving now!”  
  
Chanyeol smiles at him. “You guys can go. I think I’ll pass.”  
  
Baekhyun quirks an eyebrow at that, and Chanyeol looks down at his phone, hoping Baekhyun will get the message.  
  
“We’ll see you later then?” Jongdae says, and heads out the door after Chanyeol’s nod.  
  
“Good luck,” Baekhyun whispers, leaning in to sneak a kiss on Chanyeol’s cheek.  
  
“Hurry up lovebirds!” Jongdae calls out, and Baekhyun leaves him alone after Chanyeol’s promised to call him after he’s done.  
  
  
  
The drive back is silent, nothing like the constant laughter there’d been before. He’d driven over with Baekhyun and Jongdae, and the absence of music and wisecracks only serves to emphasize how quiet everything is.  
  
He’s starting to doubt himself. Was this really a good idea to begin with?  
  
A part of him argues that it is, that Baekhyun managed to repair his relationship with his parents, that it isn’t too late to try and take back what he’d done. He can still salvage this.  
  
The other, more realistic part of him knows that it won’t be that simple. At best, he’ll hang up with a curt “goodbye” and leave the discussion at that, and at worst he’ll be reminded of exactly why he left in the first place. Rome wasn’t built in a day, and neither were its’ walls. The walls Chanyeol’s built around him himself are going to take more than just one phone call to dismantle.  
  
His finger hovers over the green call button. Even after all these years, he’s still got their phone number ingrained into his memory.  
  
He taps on it.  
  
Maybe they won’t even pick up.  
  
There’s a click on the other end.  
  
“Chanyeol?”  
  
He breathes shakily. It’s his mother.  
  
“Hi Mom,” he says, doing his best to inject some cheerfulness into his voice. “Just wanted to see how you guys were doing.”  
  
He hears her suck in a breath on the other end.  
  
“Chanyeol? Is that really you?”  
  
“Yeah,” he says, eyes feeling watery all of a sudden, “It’s me.”  
  
“How are you doing? Is everything okay? Are you eating enough?”  
  
Chanyeol’s hit with a bittersweet pang. The questions are so, so familiar, and yet so strange and unknown.  
  
“I’m fine, really, I just wanted–”  
  
“Your Dad’s not here right now– he’s out of town for a business trip, so it’s just me and you tonight.”  
  
Good. This might not go as badly as he had expected. His Mom had always been the more reasonable one out of the two of them.  
  
“Listen, Mom, I–”  
  
“Your Dad and I miss you, you know that right? You’re still welcome back anytime.”  
  
A couple of years ago Chanyeol would’ve given anything to hear those words.  
  
“Thanks Mom, I miss you guys too.” Chanyeol smiles, despite the fact that she can’t see it, and continues, “I’m calling to ask for your opinion on something?” He bites his lower lip. “You don’t have to answer or anything.”  
  
“Of course I will, what is it?” Her tone seems to be kind, a bit overeager, but Chanyeol can understand why. He feels a little like that too, even though baking is usually a forbidden subject with his parents. It’s not everyday that someone you’ve cut off contact with for years calls you, and when that someone asks for help, you don’t want to scare them off. Chanyeol appreciates the effort.  
  
“Well,” Chanyeol says, “I’ve been offered a spot on _Showtime!_ ”  
  
“That’s wonderful! I’m really glad that your baking hobby has worked out so well for you, since we weren’t sure if you’d be able to support yourself.”  
  
Chanyeol winces. “Hobby” is not the word he’d have chosen.  
  
“–and I think you should go for it. I mean, at this point the money would just be a bonus, not to mention all the publicity, and–”  
  
“Actually? There’s more,” Chanyeol cuts in, bracing himself for the potential torrent of words, but it never comes.  
  
“O-oh. Alright.” He hears her shuffle around a bit, before the line goes silent and he realizes that she’s waiting for him to speak.  
  
“I asked Baekhyun what he thought, and he said–”  
  
“Who’s Baekhyun?”  
  
Chanyeol feels himself freeze. He hadn’t meant to let Baekhyun’s name slip out. Fuck, he doesn’t even know his parents’ stance on this issue.  
  
“My uh, friend. Boy.” he clears his throat. “Boyfriend.”  
  
“Oh.” she says, which seems to be happening a lot in this conversation, and there’s a long pause. Chanyeol’s long since learnt that her pausing doesn’t mean that she hasn’t heard, but rather that she’s taking the time to process and digest before speaking. It’s probably one of his favorite things about her.  
  
“Well, I suppose you can bring him with you if you decide to visit,” she ventures hesitantly, “I didn’t realize you were dating someone.”  
  
It’s not a perfect answer, but there’s hope hidden within it, nestled down deep. It’s a start, at least. He’ll take what he can get.  
  
“Yeah,” he says, and he can tell that she’s got other questions, like _How did you two meet?_ and _Chanyeol, did you at least_ try _to make the first move?_ but mercifully remains silent.  
  
“He said that I should slow down a bit,” Chanyeol shrugs. “He thinks I should give university a try before I become famous and forget what it’s like to be twenty, because I can always try for fame later.”  
  
He feels himself grinning as he says this, remembering Baekhyun complaining about how easy it’d be for someone to steal him away.  
  
(“And you probably wouldn’t even realize it, you’re so dense.”  
  
“Hey!”  
  
“I sang ‘Love Song’ to you, and you promptly freaked out and ignored me for a good couple of weeks.”  
  
“Okay, fair point.”)  
  
Another pause for her to think it over.  
  
“That makes sense,” she says, “I agree with him when he said that this won’t be your last chance.”  
  
“You do?” Chanyeol asks, not bothering to keep the surprise out of his voice. He hadn’t realized that she thought so highly of him.  
  
“Of course I do.” She sounds slightly hurt. “Look at all you’ve already done with your bakery. I know your father and I aren’t exactly happy with where you’ve ended up–”  
  
No kidding. Understatement of the century.  
  
“–but that doesn’t mean we won’t learn to accept it, if you’ve proven that you’re passionate enough to go through with it. Which, you’ve already done.”  
  
A warm feeling rises in the pit of his stomach. “Thanks,” he says softly, “That means a lot.”  
  
There’s a smile in her voice when she answers. “Anytime.”  
  
“Do you still think I should take the offer?”  
  
He hears a long sigh on the other end.  
  
“Honestly? I don’t know Chanyeol. It’s not my decision to make: it’s yours.”  
  
Chanyeol frowns. He can’t remember a time where they’d told him that he had a choice.  
  
“Just know that whatever you end up choosing, we’ll still support you.”  
  
“You really mean that?” Chanyeol whispers.  
  
“Of course I do,” she says, “Take care, call soon! And let me know what you end up choosing.”  
  
“Okay,” he says, and it feels like a promise: one that won’t be broken for a long, long time.  
  
  
  
Chanyeol thinks it might finally be spring.  
  
On his commute to EXO, he sees flower buds now, scattered along the streets and in the branches of trees. He’s finally put away his boots and traded them for sneakers, and he’s ditched the furry hat he used to wear in favor of a snapback. There’s rain drizzling outside now, and Chanyeol’s behind the counter at EXO, waiting for Baekhyun to come after his classes.  
  
The problem is, Yifan’s expecting a call by midnight today, and Chanyeol’s still clueless as to what to do.  
  
Does he really want this?  
  
He’s not used to making decisions.  
  
Jongdae used to needle at him all the time about being too fucking quiet, that he avoided confrontation like the plague and conflict like the rats that had spread the disease in the first place.  
  
But then, how was he supposed to know? He’d grown up in a house where his parents fed carefully selected words into his mouth and he choked trying to swallow them down. He’d had every life decision made for him, had never learned what it was like to think for himself.  
  
He’s pretty sure he wants this.  
  
He doesn’t mind long hours, having been used to them since his early days with EXO. He’s fine with the competition aspect, figures it wouldn’t hurt to at least give it a try. The lights and the studio set are okay– he’s not psyched about being on camera but he’ll probably get used to it after a while.  
  
So why is he still hesitating?  
  
Maybe it’s the fact that if he takes the offer, he’d have to fly out to the set multiple times each month. He wouldn’t be able to keep EXO running as it is now, with just him and Baekhyun and Sehun, since the amount of orders they’ve been getting has skyrocketed after Yifan reviewed them. He’d probably have to hire someone else to take over for him, maybe even think of relocating to a larger building, or expanding and opening another bakery altogether. He won’t get to see Baekhyun as often as he usually would. They’d have to call and text and skype to stay in touch, instead of being able to drive ten minutes to the university campus. And he’ll be even further away from his parents, just when they finally have a chance at reconciling.  
  
He hadn’t expected to end up in this position when he’d first opened EXO all those years ago. He’d signed the lease with shaky hands, almost misspelling his name in his haste. He hadn’t even thought he could sign the lease back then, hadn’t dreamed of living somewhere that wasn’t with his parents. He’d thought that he’d be stuck in some corporate position at his Dad’s company by now, maybe doing data analysis or filing. He might have to wear suits every day, be forced to attend business conventions and smile and act with model behavior.  
  
Instead, he’s got Baekhyun, and Jongdae, and Sehun, and all the rest. He’s got his bakery, he’s got an apartment and a roommate and he’s making enough to pay the bills each month and still have something left over. It’s not exactly what his parents had envisioned for himself– fuck, it’s not even what _he_ had envisioned for himself– but it’s still kind of perfect.  
  
He scrolls through his recent calls.  
  
“Hello?”  
  
“Yifan-hyung, hi, I was calling to let you know that I really appreciate your offer, but I don’t think I want to take it.”  
  
Chanyeol holds his breath, hoping that Yifan won’t blow up at him.  
  
“You think so?”  
  
“Yes,” Chanyeol replies confidently, before realizing what he said and scrambling to backtrack. “I mean, I know so, not that I don’t also think so, but–”  
  
“I got it,” Yifan says, and Chanyeol thinks that he hears a chuckle on the other end.  
  
“Alright, I’ll let the producers know.”  
  
Chanyeol’s heart soars. “Thank you!”  
  
And that’s that.  
  
Baekhyun strolls in then, backpack slung over one shoulder despite Chanyeol telling him multiple times that _“Back pain is a serious issue”_ and says, “Anything I’d miss?”  
  
Chanyeol looks at him, watches the light pouring through the window cast patterns on Baekhyun’s face and place shadows in his hair. Remembers the day he’d hired him, how frustrated and fed up and outright annoyed he was, and thinks of how Baekhyun still acts the same, but how Chanyeol’s changed instead.  
  
“No, Baekhyun. You didn’t miss anything at all.”  
  
  
  
Somewhere, in an apartment twenty three miles away, Chanyeol’s mother smiles to herself.  
  
  
  


_two years later:_

  
  
  
  


**Exomentary**  
From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia

**Exomentary** is a Korean documentary series that follows the inner workings of  Park Chanyeol and Byun Baekhyun’s jointly-owned bakery and cafe, EXO.[1][2][3]

The show mainly focuses on the daily operations that go into running the bakery and cafe combo, an idea that Park credits to Byun.[4]

In an interview, Park has said that he expanded EXO to include a cafe menu at Byun’s insistence, who apparently has a knack for cooking.[5]

Other co workers include Oh Sehun and Kim Jongin[6][7], and the quartet are frequently seen cracking jokes and laughing on the show in order to cope with the stress of deadlines. However, both Kim Jongdae and Do Kyungsoo[8] [9] appear frequently on the show, as they attended Seoul National University[10] with Byun.

When the university classmates get together, they perform for customers at the stage and microphone ensemble Park has set up in a corner.[11]

Park claims that he had only persuaded Byun to stay at the bakery by promising to host open mic nights, as Byun recently graduated from Seoul National University’s College of Music (specifically from the department of Vocal Music) and has spoken of his passion for singing.[12]

Park, on the other hand, graduated from the Culinary Institute of America[13] with an associate degree in baking and pastry arts, after running EXO for two years.

Again, Park credits Byun for pushing him to go to school.[14]

The show is shot on location at the bakery in downtown Seoul[15], and produced by well-known professional culinary critic Wu Yifan.[16]

The first episode was released in August of 2017, and the show has had high ratings ever since, even topping Showtime! in the weekly ratings count.[17][18]

Huang Zitao of The Seoul Times called it “the greatest baking show Korea has seen since _Showtime!_ ”[19][20]

The reception among fans has been extremely positive, claiming that one of the main reasons they watch the show is due to the chemistry between Park and Byun. Both Park and Byun have yet to officially confirm their relationship.[21] [22]

  
  
  
  
_Park Chanyeol (realpcy) tweeted:_ we have our own wikipedia page now! be sure to watch our new episode when it comes out this friday!  
  
_Byun Baekhyun (byunbaek) retweeted:_ no one cares about ur stupid show  
  
_Park Chanyeol (realpcy) retweeted:_ you’re the co-host  
  
_Byun Baekhyun (byunbaek) retweeted:_ i don’t see how that fact is applicable to our current topic of discussion  
  
  
  
_Park Chanyeol to this is the 21st century soo lighten up:_ guys we hit 4 million viewers!!!!  
  
_Do Kyungsoo:_ are you kidding me  
  
_Kim Jongin:_ wow! look at us go  
  
_Oh Sehun:_ does this mean we’re famous now  
  
_Kim Jongdae:_ hAH soo you owe me ten thousand won and your entire limited edition collection of prince of tennis  
  
_Do Kyungsoo:_ i’d rather suck a dick  
  
_Kim Jongdae:_ then suck a dick  
  
_Kim Jongin:_ that escalated quickly jesus christ  
  
_Byun Baekhyun:_ u called????  
  
_Oh Sehun has changed the chat name to what the fuck just happened_  
  
_Oh Sehun has left the chat_  
  
_Park Chanyeol has added Oh Sehun to the chat_  
  
_Park Chanyeol:_ sehun stop trying to leave us all the time it won’t work  
  
_Oh Sehun:_ it doesn’t hurt to try  
  
  
  


Home > Interviews > Article

September 2017

Interview with Park Chanyeol and Byun Baekhyun by Huang Zitao

Recently, Park and Byun have been making headlines with their new show _Exomentary,_ or the greatest baking show Korea has seen since _Showtime! Exomentary_ is a documentary series that focuses on the inner workings of their bakery and cafe, EXO. Today, _The Seoul Times_ has asked me to give readers an inside look at how the show came about, as well as reveal some behind the scenes content.

**How did you guys come up with the idea for the show?**

BBH: Yifan-hyung was actually the one who came up with the idea.  
PCY: We met when his daughter commissioned EXO for a wedding cake, and we bumped into each other– quite literally– before the service.  
BBH: You should’ve seen him afterwards, his face was so red I thought he was on fire.  
PCY: Says the one who pulled over on our way there because his hands kept shaking.  
BBH: _(coughs loudly)_ Anyway, they got to talking afterwards and when Yifan first pitched the idea Chanyeol was all for it.  
PCY: I hadn’t expected to be able to open a bakery in the first place, so it was a huge surprise when he asked.

**What’s your favorite episode so far?**

PCY: Probably the first one. It was so cool to watch the camera crew move around and introduce EXO to the rest of the world.  
BBH: _(rolls eyes)_ You’re such a sap.  
PCY: I saw you tearing up when the credits started rolling and–  
BBH: _(raises voice)_ ANYWAY my favorite episode is one that hasn’t been released yet, but here’s two words to give you a taste of what’s to come: chocolate and the Leaning Tower of Pisa.  
PCY: That’s not two words, you idiot _(dodges Baekhyun’s punch)_.

**Chanyeol, you got an offer to compete on Showtime! a couple years ago, from Yifan too actually. What made you decide to turn it down?**

PCY: Well–  
BBH: I talked him out of it.  
PCY: _(rolls eyes)_ It wasn’t just you, you dork. Again, I initially didn’t think I’d be able to have my own bakery, so I was ready to accept the offer without a doubt.  
BBH: But then–  
PCY: Then yes, Baekhyun did say a few choice words that made me reconsider. But I think I really decided after I called my parents and asked them what they thought.

**Do you ever regret not taking the offer?**

PCY: Absolutely not.

**You went to the Culinary Institute of America and graduated with an associate degree in baking and pastry arts, in an impressively short time period of two years (his prior experience with EXO was accepted as work experience). What was it like to attend the CIA?**

PCY: I had always wanted to go to college, but my parents and I had different opinions, and I was forced to wait.  
BBH: You know, he didn’t tell me anything until a week before he was scheduled to leave.  
PCY: _(laughs)_ What can I say, I like a good surprise.  
BBH: I used to tell everyone that my boy– I mean, one of my close friends was working at the CIA. It was a good icebreaker.  
PCY: Anyway, I learned a lot about the different techniques that go into baking, as well as a lot of the science behind it. I took some cooking and management electives as well, so that Baekhyun could finally stop insulting my cooking skills.  
BBH: He still doesn’t know how to make béarnaise sauce though.

**Baekhyun, you never intended to become a baker at all. How do you manage to balance both baking and singing?**

BBH: Well, I only work part time at EXO.  
PCY: He sings at local bars and clubs in his spare time.  
BBH: That, and I’m also working on a few secret projects. _(laughs after hearing reporter’s groan)_ I know, I know, that’s the least satisfying answer I could give, but unfortunately it’s all I’m allowed to say.  
PCY: It really is going to be great though, when you do announce it.

**How did the two of you meet?**

PCY: I hired him during his sophomore year of university.  
BBH: We were mutual friends with Jongdae, so he was the one who first introduced us.

**Rumor has it that you two didn’t get along at first: what were your first impressions of each other?**

BBH: I thought he was a wimp.  
PCY: Hey!  
BBH: The first day I demoted him to cash register duty just to see what would happen, but all he did was smile and nod.  
PCY: _(scowls)_ I did not.  
BBH: Chanyeol, I’ve seen kicked puppies that were less obedient.

**What advice do you have for aspiring bakers?**

BBH: Make sure that you’re really passionate about it. If you have enough passion, you can endure anything.  
PCY: Don’t listen to anyone else but yourself. Make decisions because you want to, not because someone else told you so.

  
  
  
  
_Park Chanyeol (realpcy) tweeted:_ petition to kick jongdae out of the group chat because he won’t stop making dumb baking puns  
  
_Kim Jongdae (kimdae92) retweeted:_ a good baker like myself has to rise to the occasion: it’s the yeast i can do.  
  
_Do Kyungsoo (dyodoro) retweeted:_ blocked  
  
_Park Chanyeol (realpcy) retweeted:_ seconded  
  
_Oh Sehun (oohsehun) retweeted:_ you’re not even a baker  
  
_Kim Jongdae (kimdae92) retweeted:_ I’M AN HONORARY ONE  
  
_Do Kyungsoo (dyodoro) retweeted:_ that’s just what baekhyun says to get you to shut up  
  
_Kim Jongdae (kimdae92) retweeted:_ YOU’RE NOT ONE EITHER SOO YOU CAN’T TELL ME WHAT BAEKHYUN DOES OR DOESN’T DO  
  
_Do Kyungsoo (dyodoro) retweeted:_ YEAH BUT DO I MAKE DUMB PUNS I DON’T THINK SO  
  
_Kim Jongin (kji1994) retweeted:_ looks like things are going to be awkward at the Do-Kim household tonight  
  
_Do Kyungsoo (dyodoro) retweeted:_ shut up jongin what do you know  
  
_Kim Jongdae (kimdae92) retweeted:_ yeah lmao loser you’re still in university  
  
_Park Chanyeol (realpcy) retweeted:_ plus you room with sehun that’s not much better  
  
_Oh Sehun (oohsehun) retweeted:_ hEY  
  
  
  
_Byun Baekhyun to gudetama is so much better than rilakkuma FIGHT ME CHANYEOL:_ hey why aren’t yixing and luhan in this  
  
_Kim Jongin:_ i already tried to add them in but sehun nearly bit my head off  
  
_Oh Sehun:_ our conversations!!! are too incriminating  
  
_Byun Baekhyun:_ even better  
  
_Byun Baekhyun has added Luhan and Zhang Yixing to the chat_  
  
_Oh Sehun:_ wHAT the fuCK  
  
_Oh Sehun has removed Luhan and Zhang Yixing from the chat_  
  
_Kim Jongdae:_ LANGUAGE  
  
_Oh Sehun:_ DON’T “LANGUAGE” ME  
  
_Park Chanyeol has added Luhan and Zhang Yixing to the chat_  
  
_Park Chanyeol:_ hi luhan, hi yixing  
  
_Zhang Yixing:_ ??????????????  
  
_Do Kyungsoo:_ trust me, you get used to it  
  
  
  


◻ **baekyeol9292** follow

reasons why baekyeol is real:

if you’ve been following me for a while you’ll know that i’ve been screaming about exomentary ever since it first came out (especially baekyeol) and i’ve been waiting to make this post for AGES but i only took the time to do so last night so here it finally is!

disclaimer: this is just my opinion and what i’ve observed, so feel free to take everything with a grain of salt!

now, the actual list:  
-

  * well we have to start this list off with the most iconic selca of all time  
-
  * also! chanyeol literally has baekhyun set as his lockscreen like you can’t get more boyfriend than that  
-
  * and baekhyun HATED it during episode six of season one when that girl kept hitting on chanyeol  
-
  * just look at this death glare he’s sending her  
-
  * if looks could kill that girl would be six feet underground by now i do not want to get on baekhyun’s bad side  
-
  * also baekhyun has said multiple times on the show that he sleeps with chanyeol’s rilakkuma blanket  
-
  * and the fact that they’re living together??!!??!?  
-
  * can you imagine all the domestic-y goodness that probably happens behind the scenes that we just don’t know about  
-
  * plus kyungsoo mentioned that during university baekhyun used to spend more time at chanyeol and jongdae’s apartment than at his and baekhyun’s shared dorm– do you know what that means??  
-
  * look at this picture of the chenyeol apartment: baekhyun’s stuff is everywhere  
-
  * very recently!! baekhyun slipped up and started saying “boyfriend” when he was talking about chanyeol before quickly switching to “friend” can you two be any more obvious  
  


_expand_

  
  
#exomentary #park chanyeol #byun baekhyun #baekyeol #chanbaek #long post #god this took sooooo long #but i had a lot of fun doing it #and all these pictures are now in my camera roll #so that’s a bonus #sorry not sorry #1k #2k



 

↱↲ ♡

 

**2874 notes**

  
  
  
  
_Kim Jongdae to #stopbaekhyun2k17:_ will SOMEONE get the cat out of the refrigerator??????  
  
_Luhan:_ what the fuck  
  
_Oh Sehun:_ see no one says “language” to him  
  
_Byun Baekhyun:_ that’s because we actually have respect for him  
  
_Kim Jongdae:_ oops wrong chat  
  
_Kim Jongin:_ are you sober?  
  
_Kim Jongdae:_ when am i ever sober  
  
_Kim Jongin:_ good point  
  
  
  
_Park Chanyeol (realpcy) tweeted:_ an inside look at our group chat  
  
_Kim Jongin (kji1994) retweeted:_ we already went over this no one wants to see pictures of sehun’s dog  
  
_Oh Sehun (oohsehun) retweeted:_ and by no one do you mean everyone  
  
_Kim Jongdae (kimdae92) retweeted:_ ah vivi, the true hero of our generation  
  
_Do Kyungsoo (dyodoro) retweeted:_ chanyeol how the fuck did you live with him for over two years  
  
_Do Kyungsoo (dyodoro) retweeted:_ how the fuck am i going to survive living with him  
  
_Park Chanyeol (realpcy) retweeted:_ lots and lots of earplugs and a lock on your bedroom door  
  
_Kim Jongdae (kimdae92) retweeted:_ you can’t be afraid to take whisks soo, it’ll be a piece of cake once you get used to it  
  
_Park Chanyeol (realpcy) retweeted:_ bLOckED  
  
  
  
_Byun Baekhyun to Park Chanyeol:_ you know i actually don’t mind jongdae’s puns  
  
_Park Chanyeol to Byun Baekhyun:_ shhhh you were a lot more attractive before you said that  
  
_Park Chanyeol to Byun Baekhyun:_ plus you’re just as shitty as him so it makes sense  
  
_Byun Baekhyun to Park Chanyeol:_ all you knead is some more love and appreciation in your life  
  
_Park Chanyeol to Byun Baekhyun:_ nOT YOU TOO  
  


**Author's Note:**

> first off, thank you to the mods for dealing with all of my emails!! you guys are the best ♡ thank u to d and j for not only answering my lame questions at alarming hours of the night, but also for holding my hand throughout this entire process. what in the fresh hell guys. this one’s for you.  
> (if i have any baking mishaps please feel free to tell me! all of my info is coming from google and roughly four episodes of the kid’s baking championships)  
>   
> find me here: [cc](https://curiouscat.me/youth) \+ [twt](https://twitter.com/verdigy) \+ [carrd](https://haech.carrd.co)


End file.
